Live, Love, Laugh, Let Go
by confessions.of.katijane
Summary: George & Katie struggle to recover their lives after Fred is killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, as grief threatens to drown out their desire for love and living. Luckily, friends are the best sort of healing.
1. Preface

_Did the wine make her dream of the far, distant spring_

_Or a bed full of hens or the ghost of a friend?_

_All the while that she wept she had a gun by her bed_

_& a letter he wrote from a dry, foundered boat_

_& the train track will take all the wounded ones home_

_& I'll be alone._

_Fare thee well, Sarah Jones._

_Now we lie on the floor while the radio war_

_Finds its way through the air of the dead market square_

_& the Beast, never seen, licks its red talons clean._

_Sarah curses the cold,_

"_No more snow, no more snow,_

_No more snow."_

_--Iron & Wine, "Radio War"_

**Will you say to me when I'm gone,**

"**Your face has faded, but lingers on**

**Because light strikes a deal with each coming night."**

**--Iron & Wine, "Each Coming Night"**


	2. Alki

"_I can't wait to fall in love," sighed a twelve-year-old girl, blonde plait twirling between her fingers as she lay on her four-poster bed staring up at the ceiling._

"_Alicia, you're not being practical," said another small girl who was tacking up a poster of a famous quidditch star to the wall. She was dark-skinned and her long dark hair was tied into hundreds of tiny braids. "Love isn't real. The best you can do is to find someone who can provide a diversion from your regular, boring life for a few weeks. Then you move onto the next bloke. Isn't that right, Katie?"_

"_Yeah, Katie, tell Ange she's wrong," said Alicia, clutching her pillow._

_The last girl of the three was flipping through the pages of kid's magazine that included pull-out pranks and simple recipes for potions that resembled vomit in both form and smell. She looked up with bright green eyes through messy, short dark hair that was tied haphazardly into a pony tail. "You really want to know?" she asked._

"_Yes!" shouted the two other pre-teens simultaneously. "Tell her she's wrong!"_

"_No," said Katie simply. "You're both wrong."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Let me put it this way," she said, shoving the magazine aside. "Here's my plan for my life: My first love is going to be my strongest. We'll be young and head over heels, passionately, recklessly in love. But we won't be practical. We won't be able to see sense. And then some great tragedy is going to divide us; our recklessness is going to separate us somehow and I'm never going to get over him. But, because I'm still so young, I'm going to date again and eventually I'll meet someone who's the exact opposite of everything my first love was. He'll be practical and he'll be able to provide for me. He'll help me out through the rough patches of my life for a while, but eventually we're going to realize that we're not meant for each other. He'll probably end up falling in love with my sister or someone. And my third and final love is going to be the person I grow old with. And there's my life."_

"_That sounds depressing," Alicia said, turning up her nose._

"_I'm just trying to be practical," returned Katie, shrugging._

"_That's not practical," scoffed Angelina, rolling her eyes. "What on earth makes you think that's going to happen to you?"_

_Again, the small brunette shrugged. "I just know," she replied, turning back to the magazine and beginning to read about bogie hexes. "That's all. I just know."_

Katie Bell woke up in a cold sweat, jerking upward and pushing away the stray clippings of her twice edited story that had clung to her face, stuck there with drool from her sleep. _Oh, gross_. _Where the hell was she, anyway? Oh, that's right. Work._

"I am Katie Bell, emerging journalist for the rag of a newspaper called the _Daily Prophet_ and I am not disoriented enough to forget that," she breathed to herself, trying to collect the clippings that had flown from her desk. Noticing the empty office and the small patch of moonlight that fell on the rough blue carpet, Katie quickly checked her wristwatch: 9:30 p.m.

"Oh damn," she muttered. "Late again. Aarons will kill me."

Seemingly right on cue, the large night watchman for the newspaper office walked in, shining the light from his wand into the corner where Katie's desk was located. Katie frowned slightly, shielding her eyes.

"Still here," she said grumpily.

"You again!" Aarons said, annoyed. "I thought they told you to stop working so late. You'd better get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah," Katie grumbled. "I'm going, just don't get your knickers into a twist over it." She shoved her few things into an old burlap messenger bag and threw it over her shoulder. She attempted to sidle past Aarons, but the overgrown man stopped her by putting a large paw on her shoulder. Katie looked up slowly, annoyed. Aarons's eyes grew large.

"Hey," he said stupidly. "Hey, I recognize you. You're Katie Bell. You were on the front page this morning."

"Congratulations on your visual recall capabilities," she spat, once more sidling around him.

"Say, is that why you're always working so late? So you won't have to spend time thinking about that red-headed bloke?"

"Goodnight!" she said with finality, not bothering to look back at just another of the concourses of people that had made her already wretched life hell that day—and indeed for the past week. She tossed that morning's issue of the daily prophet idly into the bin on her way out and locked the door behind her. Had anyone bothered to inspect the barely-read paper she had so carelessly tossed aside, they would have seen the large bold headline: "**War Kills Even Those Who Survive**". Underneath was a large glossy photo of a tall red-headed man who happened to be missing an ear, clutching the hand of a thin-set dark haired young woman. Both were staring solemnly at a casket on a hill, the rain falling softly and lightly on the heads of both young man and woman. It was complete with a caption.

"_The startling green eyes of Kathryn Bell are full; the tears form and slide to the end of her extraordinarily long lashes where they finally fall silently. Her eyes speak of the measureless sorrow of her soul, but her jaw is set firm in the style of a wizarding Jacquelyn Kennedy (for a full explanation, see Page 3). The only sign of her inner turmoil manifests itself in her left hand—still adorned by the simple silver band--which is clenched tightly in that of stalwart, left-behind twin George Weasley. These two, closest to the deceased, listen silently to the eulogy of the brave Fred Weasley who was stolen from us just this past June in the spring of his life. Though both refused to comment--"_

What the self-important publication did not reveal was the fact that reporter Rita Skeeter, along with a nameless photographer, had entered the private funeral--uninvited and most definitely unwelcome--attempting to obtain interviews with the "stalwart twin" and "silver band adorned" girl. After much hissed accusations of exploiting the deaths of innocent people for career success, George had punched the round and bumbling photographer in the jaw and Skeeter had run for the hills after colliding with Ginny Weasley's Bat Bogie Hex. Still, that had not prevented the publication of the article exonerating the forbearance of family members and fiancée of the late Fred Weasley.

To Katie Bell, this had been the equivalent of losing Fred all over again. To see his death splashed carelessly over the pages of the paper she worked for in the guise of honoring his "service to the cause" had been almost torture to the already wretched state of her mind. And where she was going now, she was sure that the article had caused equal—and probably even more—devastation.

Katie crossed the street to where one of the many buildings of the Ministry of Magic was located. She quickly crossed the nearly deserted floor to the Floo Station that would bring her to the Weasleys. She looked around, debating on checking whether or not Arthur or Percy was still present. Then realizing that no one but herself ever worked this late, she proceeded to enter an open grate.

This was how she had spent almost every day of her life since Fred had been killed a month ago: Wake up at six, get to work at the earliest possible hour, throw herself into a flurry of activity writing op-ed pieces ravaging the Ministry for its slow clean-up of affairs, get kicked out at the latest possible hour by Aarons, try to avoid noisy and unfeeling reporters who wanted details of her personal life, floo over to Burrow for a dessert buffet while doing her best to comfort the almost broken family, and finally apparate back to her own small flat in the outskirts of London, go to sleep only to wake up and repeat it all over again. She found that the more she worked, the less she had to feel. And it was having to feel that was exactly what she was hoping desperately to avoid. Even spending time with the Weasleys had evolved into a mindset of work for her; helping Molly with the dishes, whispering encouraging words to Percy, bringing over a new muggle trinket she thought might interest Arthur, simply sitting next to George. It was a routine, and a fulfilling one. Though they never said much, she knew the family needed and appreciated her presence there. They always saved the dessert until she arrived, no matter how late she was.

As Katie stumbled through the small fireplace at the Burrow, she was greeted by the familiar sight of those who surrounded the Weasleys these days: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, baby Teddy Tonks with his grandmother, and her own mother and Aunt Elizabeth.

Andromeda Bell quickly hurried over to her daughter, taking her bag and hanging it on a nearby peg, slightly scolding her for working so late again though there was not heart in the reprove. Katie kissed her quickly on the cheek and tried to avoid the look of pain that was in her mother's eye; the reason she sought refuge within the walls of a home full of those who understood the devastations of war.

Katie's own family was broken. Her father, Nicolas, had been thrown into Azkaban early during the war and had yet to be released. The Ministry was making a giant ruddy mess of the release process, requiring papers and documentation, and Nicolas Bell yet lived within the walls of his unjust prison. It was her father that inspired most of Katie's unforgiving editorials in the paper.

Her older brother, Michael Bell, was also missing. He had disappeared almost two months earlier, having been sent out on some sort of mission for the Order. Though many still held out hope for his return, Katie foresaw nothing other than the worst. The events of the war, culminating in the death of the only person she had ever passionately loved, had hardened her outlook on almost everything.

As for her aunt, her husband had been killed a little over three months ago in a raid of his place of employment. A young couple, they as of yet had no children and now the painful reality that this would never come to fruition had settled in on Elizabeth Garibaldi. She had moved in with her sister shortly after the death of her husband which was when Katie herself had moved out.

Katie felt that it was best that she kept most intimate personal connections at bay. In her heart, she knew that this was probably the worst thing she could do for herself, but she told herself that as long as the others were comforted she had done her duty. She had not shed above two tears together since that awful night and she intended to keep it that way. The only times she was disturbed were at night when she was alone, and when she dreamed; her dreams had lately been odd collections of memories both directly and indirectly related to Fred and she always awoke from them in a cold sweat, reminding herself that that part of her life was now over and that she needed to move forward, always constantly forward.

"And how was work today, dear?" asked a bustling Molly Weasley as she arranged several dishes on the dining room table. Her eyes were bright, full of concern and a wish to talk of only the mundane, so as to prevent the thoughts that silence would bring.

"Horrific," Katie replied, passing out the mismatched placemats to each spot. "As is every day that I find evidence that I'm employed by the same management as that awful cow, Rita Skeeter."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mrs. Weasley exchange a glance with her mother.

"Yes, we did see the papers this morning…" her mum said softly.

"They're vultures," Katie said disgustedly. "They'll do anything for a headline."

"George was quite upset as well," said Mrs. Weasley. "As far as we could tell, anyway. His moods don't seem to fluctuate much, lately." Her tired eyes turned worriedly up the staircase.

"Where is George?" Katie asked kindly, placing a hand on the woman's back. She tried not to think how ridiculous this question would have sounded a month earlier when the location of a Weasley twin was never a mystery

"Still up in his room, I suppose," she answered quietly. "He spends most of his time up there any more. Why don't you be a love and go fetch him for us so we can get started here?"

Katie nodded her acquiescence and turned to go up the stairs. George Weasley had been absent from most social gatherings, however small, since the death of his twin brother. This hardly need imagining why and Katie had been doing her best to give whatever small comfort she could to her grief stricken friend. Of all the images of utter horror that had taken occurred that night, the look on George's face had been by far the most painful. Since then, he rarely talked to anyone about his feelings and spent most of his time holed up inside his and Fred's old room, though Katie often noted that George would avoid looking in the mirror almost as though it was an evil thing. She considered this sadly and lightly tapped on the door of the room she knew so well.

"It's Katie," she said softly, knowing that George would only answer to her and Ginny these days.

"Come in," came the hollow return. Katie pushed the door open gently and found George lying on the bottom bunk of the stacked twin beds. The room was filled with boxes of Fred and George's old things, mostly inventions now, but the beds were still more or less in tact with quilts in place and a picture of Fred and herself taped up where he used to sleep. Katie avoided looking at this photograph and tried to collect herself.

"Would you like to come down for dessert?" she asked gently. "I brought my famous boysenberry pie which only you and I know comes from the market shop around the corner." She smiled wanly, a gesture that George attempted valiantly to repeat.

"I dunno, Kates…" he said slowly, running his fingers through the shaggy red hair.

"Come on," Katie said firmly, sticking out her hand for him. "If you don't come and sit with me I'm going to be subjected to enduring the unworthy praise of my pie with no one to share the joke with."

George considered her for a moment and then stood up, taking her hand. Katie managed a small smile and squeezed her palm into his, leading him down the stairs.

The rest of the small party smiled at George's appearance, though she could tell that some—Percy, in particular—avoided his direct gaze. Knowing that the reason for this was his almost carbon copy appearance of Fred, Katie squeezed his hand tighter, feeling a pang for something that George could not help in the slightest. She herself had been subject to this prejudice for the first week or so after Fred's death but had snapped herself out of it, convinced of the ridiculousness of her actions. And though it still struck a chord of grief when she would meet his brown eyes directly, she steeled herself against flinching for George's sake as much as her own.

The dessert passed by pleasantly enough, with appropriate amounts of idle conversation and comments on Molly's excellent cooking as well as Katie's budding skills in the kitchen. Her mouth twitched at this and she caught her mother's eye who regarded her shrewdly. Katie looked away quickly, figuring that her mother had guessed who the praise actually belonged to by now. By the time all was said and done, it was after midnight and most of the guests had departed. Only Katie, her mother, and Aunt Elizabeth remained.

"Katie, dear, why don't you stay with us tonight?" Mrs. Weasley suddenly proposed. "It's getting late and I don't like to think of you apparating back to London by yourself."

Katie looked up in surprise at this suggestion, looking over to her mother for support. But her mother agreed. "If Molly can spare the room, I think it's best," Andromeda said. "You don't get out much; it might be good for you."

"She can stay in Charlie's old room," Mrs. Weasley said, as though that finished matters.

"I really don't know," Katie said quickly. "I have work, and—" The thought of staying the night in a place she hadn't since Fred was alive scared her. She knew she would half expect the tall, lanky red-head to sneak into her room and crawl into bed next to her like he had done on so many occasions before, and she didn't really think she could bear that degree of poignancy. At least, not yet.

"Rubbish," Ginny interjected. "You can floo over same time as Dad and Percy. They leave early enough and your building's only across the street."

"It would be nice to have you here," Mr. Weasley put in.

"I suppose I could…" Katie said, relenting a little.

"Please," George said suddenly, almost pleading with her through his gaze. The rest of the table perked up at this rare occurrence of George speaking. Katie nodded slowly.

"Alright then," she said.

"All settled," said Mrs. Weasley with finality. "I'll just run up and fetch a quilt for you."

"Good night, love," Mrs. Bell whispered, hugging her daughter tightly. Katie exchanged kisses with her mother and her aunt and they flooed off into the darkness.

"Why did you want me to stay?" Katie asked George once they were left alone. George shrugged.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "Just to have you here."

Katie nodded, understanding. _He wants things to feel like they used to. Well enough._

Xxx

Katie padded down the hall late that night, unable to sleep. She heard the gentle breathing of Ginny, the more labored of Percy, and silence from Ron's room. She avoided Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room, knowing if she walked past it she would be able to hear Molly crying softly as she did on most nights. Carefully, she crept down the hall to George's room to check on him.

Peering through the crack in the door, she saw him tossing and turning on his bed, muttering to himself.

"Please stay," he pleaded, almost sounding as though he were trying to joke the whole thing off. "It would be utterly fantastic if you could…I'm no use without you. And I know you love to hear that because you're an egotistical git, but…I just—you're part of me, bro. Please stick with me. Come back. Please, I—"

Katie turned away, a single tear finding its way out of the corner of her eye as she felt her soul being wrenched in two. She was about to close the door, but hurried away and back again, a small flask of her own potion she had been brewing for herself for the past couple of weeks in her hand. She crept up to George's side and whispered into his ear. He turned over, heavy with sleep, but complied as she gave him the small amount of liquid that banished all dreams. He swallowed and was still.

Not bothering to wipe the small tear that still clung to her cheek, she turned out of the room and left the house, apparating to the only place she could think of that would rain in July. It was where she always went when she couldn't sleep.

In Seattle, Washington, Katie stopped in at a coffee house where the woman by the counter now knew her on a first name basis. Katie invented a story about visiting a sister in the city when questioned about her English accent, but most of the time found that people did not ask questions. Muggles deserved more credit than they got, she thought to herself. After this, Katie would retire quietly to the beach that bordered the city, sit on the rocks and watch the waves crash onto the shore, ever coming and going. The coastline here was almost wild, with grey sand and rocky terrain. Light rain fell, almost comforting her with its repetition and consistency. Though the locals here did not seem to notice the rain, they stayed off the beach on days like this giving Katie the solitude that she almost craved. And there, in an almost hypnotic state, she would observe the tide; how it came and then left, leaving the shore barren and changed. But, always, within a few hours it would come back, returning the shore to its original state exactly. Almost like it had never left. Katie stared and pondered this in a land so far away from her own, unknowingly fingering the silver ring that still resided on her left hand. The name of the beach was Alki, a Native American word which she was told by the locals meant "eventually" or, "someday".

**Okay, I had to throw in my hometown—but really, where else would have fit for poor Katie? And as a note of interest, the beach here really is called Alki & that's exactly what that word means. Cool, huh?**


	3. The Invitation

"_You really will?" asked fifth-year Fred Weasley excitedly. "You really will go out with me?!"_

"_I really will go out with you," laughed Katie, grinning at his incredulity. _

"_And you're totally serious?"_

"_Dead serious," she reaffirmed, laughing. "Honestly, Fred, did you really ask me out expecting that I'd say no?"_

"_I don't know what I thought!" he cried, laughing now, too. "But I'm so glad that you did! In fact—"_

_Fred clambered on top of the couch on which they were sitting in the common room and threw his arms out, his booming voice calling everyone to attention._

"_Excuse me," he shouted. "Excuse me here, I have a very important announcement to make!"_

"_Fred, get down from there," Percy warned. Katie just rocked back in peals of laughter._

"_I'm sorry, but I'll not allow even you to ruin this for me, dear brother. Many apologies," Fred grinned, casting a full body bind on the self-important Head Boy. "And now, friends, I must let you know: This girl—this lovely girl sitting right here—(Come on, Katie, wave to the people!)—This girl right before your eyes has agreed to be my girlfriend on this, the 22__nd__ day of November, and I am SO HAPPY!" He paused, laughing out of sheer joy and began again. "And I just wanted to let you all know—that I LOVE THIS GIRL!!! Merlin, I love this girl!"_

_By now, Katie herself was in hysterics, caught up in the passion of the moment, tears of laughter pouring from her eyes. "Fred, get down," she begged, tugging on his sleeve and accomplishing absolutely nothing._

"_No disturbing the team equilibrium," Oliver Wood said moodily from the corner._

_The two just laughed as Fred returned from the top of the couch. "Oh, sod off, Ollie," Katie laughed, causing him to look affronted. She returned to Fred, leaning on him for support._

"_What did you do that for, huh?" she asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Why'd you have to make such a spectacle?"_

"_I couldn't help it," he returned, grinning just as wide as she was. "It's just SO MUCH FUN being in love with you!"_

_She laughed again. "I know exactly what you mean," she said quietly, just before the two shared their first kiss. It lasted about seven and a half minutes and was only interrupted when Percy managed to find someone to release him from his brother's body binding spell._

This time, Katie was shaken awake by a man she did not recognize. She opened her eyes to his round, red face, grimacing in the light that was glinting off of a badge on his chest which read "Sheriff". Katie had time to wonder vaguely why muggles wore their names on their chests and just what kind of name "Sheriff" was before the man spoke.

"It's illegal to sleep on the beach, missy," he said, staring down at her.

Katie jerked upward, staring around her. He was right; she was still in Seattle and still on the beach. Her eyes grew round as she thought of the Weasleys and how they would probably be wondering where she was. She checked her watch but found that she had somehow leaned against the reset button during the night and that it no longer read the correct time.

"Are you alright?" the sheriff now asked curiously. "You were jerking around in your sleep quite a bit there."

"I'm fine," she breathed, standing up and brushing the sand off of her jeans. "Do you happen to know what time it is?"

"It's 7:30," the man replied. He was looking her up and down, eyes lingering on her engagement ring with disappointment.

"Oh no," Katie moaned, not noticing his reactions. "I've got to be at work in half an hour or I'm late!"

"Well where do you work?" the sheriff asked. "I might be able to drive you there."

"London," Katie breathed, gathering her things.

"London?!" he laughed incredulously. "Sorry, lady, but I don't think you'll be making it there in half an hour. You're much better off having breakfast with me instead."

"Oh, I'll make it, I'll just be in a rush" Katie said dismissively. "And you can keep your breakfast, Sheriff. By the way, that really is a curious name. Is it in the family?"

And without waiting for an answer, she sped around the corner and seemingly disappeared from his view. The sheriff scratched his head and then began to commence with his rounds. "Damn crazy Brits," he muttered to himself.

Katie apparated with a small pop back into the Weasleys' kitchen where Molly was just cleaning up breakfast and Percy and Arthur were getting ready to floo to work.

"_There_ you are, dear," she said, surprised. "Where did you go?"

"Had to go out to—er—get some new clothes. Can't go in jeans to work," she lied quickly.

"But I don't see any—"

Katie dashed into the nearest washroom, quickly summoning up a blouse, skirt, and a pair of heels. She changed quickly and ran back out into the kitchen.

"But you'll miss breakfast!" Mrs. Weasley protested as Katie prepared to follow Percy into the fireplace grate.

"I'm seriously fine, Mrs. Weasley," Katie said as gratefully as she could muster. "I'll come back 'round for a slice of pie again tonight, though?"

"At least take a piece of toast," she urged, shoving a small saucer into Katie's hands. "You look very underfed."

Katie knew when it was best to just let things lie, and this was one of those times. She placed the piece of toast inside her mouth, reshouldered her messenger bag, and waved a quick goodbye.

"Wait!" Molly shouted. "I forgot—this came for you today. I think it was Alicia Spinnet's owl."

"Thanks, Mrs. W," Katie mumbled through the toast, gripping the letter and shoving it into one of the many pockets of her bag. "But I really have to go. 'Bye!"

And Katie sped through the Floo Network, landing hard on the floor of the Ministry of Magic. Not wanting to waste more time crossing the street, Katie apparated quickly to the building where the _Daily Prophet _operated. Finally entering the elevator, Katie leaned against the back of the door and swore slightly under her breath.

"Miss Bell, how odd it is to see you here only fifteen minutes before work starts," said a voice beside her. Katie started and turned around to find her boss, Germaine Hudson smiling at her in a curious sort of way.

"I spent the night with a family friend," she breathed. "They kept me a little later than I had planned."

"Don't apologize to me," Hudson said dismissively. "It's probably best that you're not here the usual full two hours before the day begins. You're going to wear yourself out if you aren't careful. Watch yourself, Bell."

"Yes, ma'am," Katie said, nodding without any intention of following through. The elevator dinged and both witches stepped out, heading their separate ways.

Katie, still only nineteen years old and a budding journalist, sat in the corner of the large office in a cubicle pushed far from the main center of activity. She didn't mind this, however. The quiet helped her concentrate. Her main goals here at work were to, one, get her father released from Azkaban and two, attain a regular spot in publication by the end of the year. The way she was working now, she would have it by the end of the next six months. Her work was flawless, provocative, and always in two weeks early. This was good for her professional life, but ravaged her social one; Ever since she had returned to work after the war, she'd earned a reputation as somewhat of an overachiever and a killjoy. The only person in the office she got along tolerably well with was Jacquelyn, another young witch whose cubicle was next to her own. Jacquelyn graduated from Beauxbatons the same year Katie left Hogwarts.

"Morning, Katie," Jacquelyn said, looking over her typewriter as Katie lowered herself into her chair.

"Hi, Jac," she returned tiredly.

"Long morning?" the long haired girl asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had managed to fall out of the light brown ponytail.

"You've no idea," Katie said, arranging her things. "I woke up on a beach in Seattle."

Jacquelyn raised an eyebrow and then shook her head. "No," she said, more to herself than to Katie. "I'm not going to ask."

"Probably for the best anyway," Katie said appreciatively. "How are things going today?"

Jacquelyn bit her lip.

"Jac…" Katie said, urging.

"There's good news and bad news," she said finally.

"Well?"

"Well, the good news is, you got your article published."

"I did? That's great!"

"Yeah…but you and that other Weasley bloke are front page again." Jacquelyn peered at Katie, waiting for the storm to break loose.

"What?!" she shouted. "Give me the newspaper. What in the hell could they have thought to come up with now??"

Wordlessly, the other girl handed over the issue of the _Daily Prophet _and Katie stared down at the headline that now read **"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes: Will It Ever Reopen, and if not, does Fiancee Kathryn Bell Inherit?"** With one ferocious effort, Katie tore the thick paper in half and threw it violently into the bin. She sat back down and put her face into her hands, breathing heavily.

"I'd hide out as much today as you can," Jacquelyn said quietly. "Word on the street is that Rita Skeeter's snooping around for you."

Katie began her day with smashing a coffee mug.

Xxx

Katie sat in a far corner of the lunch room shared by both the Ministry and the _Daily Prophet_. She wasn't eating and was instead spending the mandatory half-an-hour break by staring at the envelope handed to her by Mrs. Weasley earlier that morning. She had been right, it _was_ from Alicia. Katie recognized the small neat cursive that had written her name on the center of the envelope. She considered and reconsidered opening it. It had traveled the small distance from the table top into the messenger bag and back onto the table top about fifty times now and Katie was still unsure of what to do with it.

If she opened the letter, she would be inviting her friend that she had cut out for over a month back into her life. While this would undoubtedly be some small source of comfort for her, it would also involve returning to a flood of memories which were irrevocably connected with Fred, and she just could not bear to deal with that yet. Even the thought of reading what Alicia had to say caused her whole body to shake and her stomach to tie itself into multiple knots. What many people did not understand was that she was past the point of being able to cry; it was this state of being where her emotions were felt with her nervous system that was utter and complete agony. Only those who had experienced this knew the gravity of it. She wasn't being brave; she was at the point of deep, tearless sorrow.

She felt, rather than knew, that once she was able to cry this whole thing out, she would be on her way to really getting on with her life. There was no way to recover from this—but she could get on with her life. Perhaps Alicia Spinnet could help. Katie's hand hovered over the envelope.

But perhaps she couldn't. She drew back again. This kind of loveless existence that she had been living had its benefits. She didn't have to share anything. But maybe sharing would lead to feeling and feeling to expressing through tears; maybe Alicia could help her become human again.

Katie took a deep breath and placed her hand on the envelope. She was on the point of giving way to her fears and pushing the letter away again when a voice interrupted her vacillation.

"I'd open that if I were you."

At the familiar Scottish accent, Katie whipped around in shock. Casually standing behind her was none other than Oliver Wood, her old captain and friendly acquaintance from her school days.

"Hi, Ol," she said, still bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver laughed good-naturedly. It was a strange and unfamiliar sound to Katie, who had only heard hushed voices for over a month. It somehow felt comforting. "I would have settled for a 'How are you?' or a 'Why don't you sit down, Wood?', but I suppose I can answer that if you'd really like to know."

"Oh, sorry," Katie muttered, suddenly recollecting normal civilities. She cleared the small table of her things and motioned for Oliver to sit down. He complied.

"Sorry…" Katie said awkwardly. "I didn't mean to interrogate you right off the bat. I just—well, I read the papers just like any other normal person and I thought I read that you'd been hired on as a regular with Puddlemore, so I guess I assumed you'd be practicing with them instead of…at the Ministry lunch room…" She trailed off.

"Yeah, Puddlemore's put me in the starting line up," Wood nodded. "But practice doesn't start until five and so sometimes I come 'round here to visit old Ludo Bagman in Magical Games. He asks my advice on a lot of things and, well, sometimes it's easier to show him in person…Anyway, I thought I recognized the back of your head."

He grinned. Katie attempted to grin back but was only able to muster a wan smile. Wood seemed to accept this, however, and continued.

"Listen, I've—er—read about you a lot lately, too. How are you doing, Katie?" His brown eyes searched hers intently and his voice conveyed gentility and concern. Katie broke the gaze, letting her eyes drop to her lap, hoping that this could somehow function as an answer.

Oliver reached out and gently took her hand, squeezing it softly. "Trust me, you're really going to want to open that letter, Bell."

For some reason, Katie reacted angrily, snatching back her hand. "How do you know?" she snapped. "You're just like all those other heartless bastards who pretend to care about poor Katie Bell who's fiancée was killed during the war so you can get the inside story!"

Oliver stared. "Bell, I'm not a reporter, I'm just concerned—"

"Like hell you are," she said angrily. "Since when do you care about what happens to me? In school, you were always too busy thinking about us as just part of the team that was going to get you the quidditch cup! You never noticed that any of us had feelings. Why should you be concerned now?"

"Right," Oliver said quietly, standing up. "Right, well—I'll go then. I'll not tell you that I actually came to find you to make sure you opened Spinnet's letter and to try and be a friend, because I can tell you wouldn't believe me. Have a good day, Katie."

Katie glowered at his retreating back and then buried her face in her hands. _What the hell am I doing? Chasing away people who want to help…Terrific, Bell. This will really get you through this._

Recomposing herself, Katie sat up straight and seized Alicia's letter, ripping it open. She unfolded the single sheet of parchment and began to read rapidly.

_Dear Katie,_

_If you're reading this now, I'm guessing you've probably already seen Oliver. Since you haven't responded to any of my previous letters, I assumed that neither your family or the Weasleys could convince you to open them so I sent Wood who I see about every other day to find you and ask you to read it. If you are, I'm assuming he did his job. If you haven't seen him, don't worry because you will next Saturday. We're all going to a movie together—that's right, those big muggle productions that you got us kicked out of the summer after our fifth year._

_Katie, I'm not going to waste ink or parchment to tell you that I'm worried about you and George. If I did, I know you'd quit reading this letter right now and most definitely wouldn't show up Saturday. So all I'm going to say, I guess, is that I miss you. I'm sharing an apartment with Ange now and Lee moved into the complex across from us a couple of weeks ago so it's really only been the three of us. Needless to say, we miss you and George like Flitwick misses his platform shoes George knicked from him two years ago._—Nice side step of Fred there, Alicia, Katie thought, but continued reading. _Anyway, it's pretty dull without you two around. It would really be doing me a huge favor if you could come with us. And I think it would be really good for George to get out, too. Every time I pass his boarded up shop, I think and worry about him, and I'm sure you're probably even more concerned for him than we are because you see him every day. Oh, and I thought it might be fun to invite Oliver, too, because none of us have talked with him in a while. It turned about to be a good idea, because he's really excited to come. _

_Anyway, Katie, I really hope you think about this and decide to join us. And please talk to George about it, too. I'd owl him, but I know there's even less chance of his opening a letter from me than there is of yours. We'd all really love to see you there. Actually, since you only respond to threats, here's one: If you and George don't both drag your arses down to my house at noon on Saturday, none of us are going. And I know you don't want to spoil four people's fun! I'll see you then, Katie._

_All my love,_

_  
Alicia_

Katie rolled her eyes. It was like Alicia to try and con her into doing something against her will. It had actually worked out really well in school. This situation, however, was enormously different from anything in school and there was nothing Alicia could say or do that would make Katie want to give up a day of work for a day of being surrounded by people who would remind her consistently of what she had lost.

She shoved the letter back into her bag and returned to work, forgetting that she had received anything in the post that day at all.

Xxx

"Was that Oliver Wood you were talking to at lunch?" Jacquelyn asked casually around five as she was packing up her things to leave for home.

"Yeah, it was," Katie replied, not looking up from her work. "I don't know what he was doing here, actually. I mean, we _talked_ at school, but it was never anything friendly so I don't know why he's decided to try and strike up an acquaintanceship now." She paused briefly to sigh. "Anyway, he and a few of my old friends from school are getting together next weekend and are trying to get George Weasley and me to tag along."

Jacquelyn nodded. "Interesting," she muttered.

"What's interesting?"

"Sorry, just that his career is taking off and he still finds time for his friends."

Katie scoffed. "He's hardly a saint, Jac. I'm sure he's just after another connection that will make headlines. 'Rising Quidditch Star Oliver Wood Finds Time to Console Broken Hearted Kathryn Bell'. It's a great publicity stunt. I commend him for being so resourceful, actually."

Jacquelyn shrugged. "Whatever, Katie. He seems harmless to me. Kind of sweet, come to think of it."

Katie quirked an eyebrow. "Would you like me to set you up on a date with him? Is that what you're getting at?"

Now it was taller girl who scoffed. "Hardly," she said dismissively. "Not denying that he's dead gorgeous, but…well, goodnight, Katie. Don't stay too late."

"'Night, Jac."

Katie closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to refocus on her story. Her angle, which had really worked for the last couple of issues, was failing. Kingsley Shacklebolt was more than a capable Minister and Katie knew that; it was hardly his fault that Azkaban was a practically medieval institution. Kingsley was working hard, first by removing dementors from guarding the prisoners and then by appointing a special staff over the release process. But _still_, having her father behind bars over trumped up charges after a month was absolutely ridiculous. And the flack her family—and many others—were receiving from some members of the wizarding world was getting to be more than just salt on an open wound. Katie sighed, running her fingers through the short chocolate brown hair that hung in layers to her chin. She sat up, readjusted her black reading glasses and began typing once again, showing the administration no mercy despite the reprieves she had just given them inside her head.

Having properly produced another of her harshly worded editorials, Katie placed the acidic article in Hudson's inbox and began to collect her things.

"See that you're leaving before I have to tell you to," Aarons's voice came from behind her.

Katie pursed her lips and shouldered her messenger bag, turning around to face him. "Good evening to you, too," she said shortly.

The security guard rudely stared at her skirt, which was slightly above her knees. "You know, you could start dating again if you wanted to," he said bluntly.

Katie just glared at him, shoving past him and into the hall.

"No, that didn't come out right," he stumbled behind her. "I mean, any time you want to talk about your dead fiancée, I'm willing to listen."

Katie whirled around, now completely irate. "_Why can't you people just learn to leave me alone_?!" she shrieked. "_Stay the hell out of my business, will you_?!"

The rotund, balding man looked taken aback as another voice began to sound from a darker corner Katie hadn't bothered to take notice of until just then. _Oh, sweet Merlin._

"Kathryn Bell, endearingly called Katie by those closest to her, pleads with fellow employees to just let her be as she makes her way out after another overly long day at the office," said the silky smooth voice of Rita Skeeter. The tall blonde woman emerged from the shadows, a smile across her simpering face and a Quick Quotes Quill in hand. "Tell me, Kathryn, is this pent up rage a direct result of your fiancee's death, or your father's imprisonment?"

"You," Katie said with as much disdain as she could afford. "I have no desire to talk to you. You're total scum, harassing people in mourning for a headline."

She turned around and continued walking toward the door, but the questions followed her.

"Wait, Katie—What do you think your fiancée would have thought of the harsh articles you've been publishing? If he had to choose between you and his twin brother, who do you think who would choose to speak to if he had another chance? Do you feel like you have to live for the both of you now? Does George feel that way?"

With each step, she came closer and closer to exploding. She was about to drop a choice swear word she had learned from Fred when someone else interceded.

"Oi!" said a commanding voice. Katie stared at Oliver Wood who had managed to magically reappear in her life for the second time that day. "Oi, Rita, would you give it a rest with Bell for a moment?"

"Coming to her rescue, are we, Wood?" Rita said, looking delighted, her pen scratching away excitedly. Katie's eyes grew wide, silently pleading with him not to stay anything stupid.

"Of course not," he said easily as relief rushed over her. "I just heard you were over here and thought you could use an interview with me."

"Indeed?" she said curiously, quickly forgetting about Katie. "But you've always opposed my interviews in the past."

"Yeah, well, I've changed my mind," Oliver said quickly, but firmly. "Just not tonight. I'll give you my home address, though, and you can pop 'round sometime tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Quite delightful, Mr. Wood. I'm glad to see you've finally come to your senses about this fame business."

Oliver looked like he was suppressing something as he scrawled his address out on a spare bit of parchment and handed it to Rita. Katie continued to stare in amazement as both the untactful security guard and callous reporter wandered out of her sight. She turned her attention to Wood, hoping to express her thanks but all that came out was, "What are you doing here now?"

"I—er—left my wand here earlier. Didn't really feel comfortable going home without it so I thought I'd pop 'round here and have a look to see if I could find it."

"At the _Daily Prophet_ building…where you haven't been all day?" She looked at him curiously.

"Right, well, I was actually in here _earlier_, but you must not have seen me."

"Your wand's sticking out of your pocket, Wood."

"Oh is it? I see. I guess you're right." Oliver looked around from his great height, obviously unaware of what to do now that he had been caught.

Katie just sighed and rolled her eyes. "I opened the letter, Oliver," she said, registering that his appearance could only be for that reason. "I know that Alicia sent you to make sure that I did."

"Er—right. Good. So you're coming, then?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, Ol…" she trailed off.

"Alicia's really worried about you."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "How are you seeing Alicia so often?" she asked, changing the subject. "She's a healer at St. Mungo's."

To her surprise, Oliver seemed to laugh to himself. "Well," he admitted. "Life as a professional quidditch player seems to be a bit—ah—rougher than I imagined, I suppose. I've gotten quite a few injuries. If you read the papers, I'm surprised you haven't heard about it. "Accident Prone Ollie', that's what they're calling me now. Bit unfair, really. Anyway, I ran into Alicia probably the third or fourth time I was there and she's been treating me ever since to keep me away from reporters. I've been trying to reestablish those connections from school ever since the war ended. Made me realize what's important in life, I guess."

Kate sighed tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "Oliver, you didn't lose anyone in the war," she said, slightly exasperated. "What do you know about what's important in life?"

"I was friends with Fred, too," Oliver reminded her gently. _It was true_, Katie guessed, _If you counted the twins constantly badgering Oliver as friendship_.

"Okay, Wood," Katie said, continuing to walk down the stairs and out of the building while he followed closely behind her. "Maybe we'll see you on Saturday."

She attempted to open the door, but he blocked her. "I also came by to see if you fancied a bit of tea," he said quickly, looking at her intensely.

"I have to be somewhere," she said, looking up distractedly at Wood. _What was he playing at now?_

"Where are you going?" It was obvious that he didn't believe her.

"I'm going to the Weasleys," Katie sighed. "I meet them for dessert every night. They like me to be there, and George especially needs—" She broke off, tiredly looking up at him as though begging him to understand.

To her relief, he nodded. "Alright," he said. "Well I'm coming back here tomorrow to go over some more stuff with Ludo; how'd you like to go out to lunch with me? Catch up a bit?"

Katie looked at him confused. "I don't know, Wood, we'll see."

"Please consider it. And Katie? Try and get some sleep tonight. You look a frightful wreck."

"Thanks, Ol." And she pushed past him for the final time, crossing the street toward the Floo station.

xxx

Dessert that night was more of a quiet affair than usual. Katie wasn't quite sure wheter to attribute this to George's absence ("He refuses to come down tonight," Ginny had said, frustrated, as she sidled in next to Harry Potter) or the repeated careful glances between her mother and Mrs. Weasley. Katie ate her raspberry cheesecake listlessly, figuring that the two women would unfold whatever they were conspiring together in due time and that it was best not to push it.

Katie was right. Just as people began to throw down their napkins and push their empty plates toward the center of the table, Mrs. Bell began to speak tentatively.

"Mrs. Weasley and I think it's best if you and George go out with your friends on Saturday," she said finally. Molly nodded firmly.

Katie raised her left eyebrow and stared at the pair of them. "You've been reading my _mail_?" she asked, accusatorily.

"No, no, of course not," her mother said, looking scandalized.

"Oliver Wood dropped by this afternoon, dear," Mrs. Weasley explained kindly. "He informed us of the contents of Alicia's letter."

Katie groaned and stared up at the ceiling. _Oliver Wood strikes again._

"We know what you're thinking, love," Mrs. Bell gently began. "But we've talked about it and really decided that that's what's best—for you _and_ for George. Neither of you have talked to your friends since—"

"Since Fred was killed," Katie finished for her, causing a couple of people at the table to wince. "I know."

"I would _really_ like for you to go, Katie," Andromeda said, eyes pleading with her.

"I have work," Katie said coldly. "I can't." She knew that going would be the best thing for her, but it would be hard and Katie didn't feel like she should handle hard at the moment. George could go if he wanted—which meant that he wouldn't go, but that was his mother's problem. Katie didn't own any of them.

"We've called in and cancelled for you," Mrs. Weasley supplied helpfully as Katie's jaw dropped in incredulity.

"They were actually quite glad to see you take a day off," Mrs. Bell said, smirking. "They were a touch worried about you being a little—ah—_overzealous._

Katie threw her napkin down, albeit a little immaturely. "This isn't fair!" she whined. _Oh Godric, I'm resorting to whining. What next? _

She turned toward Arthur, hoping that he would cause his wife and her mother to back off a little bit. He had been one of her strongest allies throughout the past four weeks. Unfortunately this time, he had nothing for her.

"I'm sorry, Katie," Mr. Weasley said, shrugging his shoulders. "This time I'm going to have to agree with them."

The ex-chaser crossed her arms moodily and stared at her empty plate. "I hate you right now, Mother. I hope you know that."

"Oh, I know," Mrs. Bell said brightly. "But you'll be thanking me in the end. Now why don't you kip up and join Ron and Ginny in a game of exploding snap while Molly and I clear the dishes?"

Katie glared at her mother stormily and stood up, defiantly taking both her and Percy's plate to the sink.

"Actually, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently, prying the dishes from her unrelenting fingers. "I was wondering if you might do us a favor and let George know of it? I would try to tell him myself, but he won't let anyone into his room—"

At the sight of her worried eyes and tired face, along with her mother's breathless whisperings into the fire to the face of a healer Katie didn't recognize ("No news of Michael yet, then? None at all? Alright then…_please _keep me posted. Every day?"). Katie breathed out one last sigh. "Alright, Mrs. Weasley. I'll give it a shot," she promised and turned toward the stairs.

Katie walked slowly up the several flights of stairs in the old crooked house until she came to hallway that held Fred and George's small bedroom. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to be phony. She would encourage George in this, even if it killed her to do so. She tried the door half-heartedly, but to no one's surprise it was locked. She pulled out her wand and uttered _Alohomora, _and then rolled her eyes when the lock clicked open. For as brilliant an inventor as George was, he still managed to be utterly dreadful at the most simple of things. She pushed the door open slowly, expecting to find George angrily glaring at her from behind it, but instead found him on the bottom bunk staring unrelentingly at the bed above him. The sight softened her and she spoke more quietly than she had intended.

"George?" she asked gently. No answer. "George, it's Katie."

He made no sign of hearing her or even recognizing that someone else was in the room. But as he wasn't yelling or throwing sharp objects at her, shouting to get the hell out, Katie took this as a good sign. She proceeded over to his desk and pulled out the same small vial of potion that she'd given him the night previously and poured it into a goblet of pumpkin juice which she held in the other hand. She set it down pointedly on his desk and continued.

"George, I got a letter from Alicia this morning," she began, gingerly sitting down at the foot of his bed and placing her hand on his leg. "Wood made me open it." Then, realizing how odd this sounded, she proceeded to skip over her run-in with Oliver.

"Well, that's sort of a long story," she continued briskly. "Anyway, she wants us to join her and Lee and Ange at a movie next Saturday. Oh, and Oliver's coming too. A movie's sort of this muggle thing…I've been to one once. It seemed cool, but I sort of got us thrown out. Anyway, that's another long story." She paused, feeling all the awkwardness of her speech, but continued on. "Normally, I wouldn't want to go and I wouldn't push you into it either, but our mothers have banded against us and are forcing us."

Here, she forced a bit of a soft laugh. "Anyway, even though I know that neither of us want to go, I think we should…It might be good to see some old friends again, you know? So what do you think?"

She looked up to see George's reaction, but his expression was as unfazed as ever. The only sign of life that came from him was a blink and the slow rising and falling of his chest. Katie sighed sadly, patted his knee, and stood up.

"Well give it a good think," she said finally, turning toward the door. "You have a while to decide, but you ought to let me know because I won't be going without you."

She stopped at the door one last time, but the silence remained undisturbed. "Well goodnight then, George."

She placed her hand on the handle and began to turn it, but his anguished voice stopped her suddenly.

"Katie," he said, and she could hear him sitting up. "Katie, wait."

She turned around and George was up, running his fingers through his shaggy ginger hair and walking toward her. "I'm sorry, Kates," he said quietly. "It's been kind of a hard day, I started going through—I started going through our old things to try and get organized a bit, and I just…"

He stopped hopelessly, throwing his hands up into the air and letting them scruff up his hair once again. He looked out at her, as though begging her to complete the thought for him. Katie's heart went out to the anguished twin and in under a second she was across the floor, enveloping him the tightest hug she thought she had ever given someone in her life.

She could feel George's body tense up, but then relax as he sank into her, allowing her fingers to dig into his back.

"George, it's alri—"

But she was interrupted. "I miss him, Katie," George croaked. "_I miss him_."

And, for the first time in nineteen years of knowing him, Katie Bell witnessed George Weasley break down. The tears started slowly, softly, but soon gave way to convulsing sobs which racked his whole body and Katie uttered those words which were so strange to anyone involved in tragedy, but which seem to come only because nothing else will.

"It's okay," she muttered, letting him let go on her shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay."

And though she couldn't quite make herself believe them, she whispered the strange words softly to George as the man who was over a foot taller leaned against the small but stable frame for support that only someone who was suffering just as deeply could give. Outside, the muggy summer air stood still.


	4. Lunch Hour

**A/N: first off, i'm not sure why this is typing IN all capitals…caps lock isn't on, I promise. anyway, if any of you actually managed to make it through last chapter, congratulations. this one's quite a bit shorter, i promise. and a touch happier, which i know you've been wanting. i'm sorry for 'torturing your favorite characters' as someone phrased it, but it **_**is**_** kind of an angsty time for them. it will get better eventually, though, i do promise! (& by eventually, i mean when **_**i **_**start feeling better about it. oh gosh.) thanks again for reading & remember to review!!! **

_Dear Alicia,_

_Thanks for threatening me, but you should have realized a long time ago that I've never cared for anyone's happiness but my own. Before you contradict me, think back to our third year when I ate all of the brownies you made for Professor Sprout's extra credit requirement. I think that was the only time you've ever hexed me. But—against our wills—George and I have been coerced by our mothers into attending your little get together next weekend. All I can say is, you'd better be grateful that you're a trained Healer because you're going to have a lot of violence to deal with once we get there._

_Can't wait to see you._

_Love,_

_Katie_

Katie tied the short note to the leg of a large tawny owl in the _Daily Prophet_'s Owlery and walked back downstairs to her desk. She was in a fairly decent mood—as decent as decent got those days, anyway. She had swung by the apothecary in Diagon Alley before popping home to her flat last night to pick up another bottle of the dreamless sleep potion and had woken up that morning without images of Fred still lingering before her eyes. She had also taken the time to make herself a piece of toast and while this was not much of a celebration, it was definitely meters ahead of the stale granola bar she usually consumed and kilometers ahead of eating nothing, which she sometimes did on particularly difficult mornings.

What was even better was that she hadn't gone into work two hours early. Instead, she had spent that time at the Weasleys. She had gotten George up and out of bed at a decent hour and had even talked him into going for a walk around the gardens with her. It was the first time in a while that he had been out of doors and it seemed to do him a lot of good. While he remained mostly glum, he had managed to crack a smile when a gnome lifted up the hem of Katie's skirt and peered voyeuristically inside, and Katie was convinced that the previous night's break down had been a turning point in George's recovery. Though she still had yet to reach this point herself, it had been refreshing to see someone she cared about so much suffer a little less.

At least she _was_ in a fairly decent mood until she got to her desk. Jacquelyn was already there, waiting at Katie's cubicle with a mug of coffee and a letter. The brunette looked at her curiously.

"What?" she asked, feeling her heart drop as she thought of Michael.

"It's not bad!" Jacquelyn said quickly to Katie's great relief as she handed her her coffee and the letter. "Oliver Wood dropped this off just a bit ago for you."

Katie frowned again as she took a sip of her coffee and lowered herself into her chair. "Thanks, Jacquelyn," she said listlessly, shoving the letter underneath of a pile of faxes that were due to send out before lunch that day.

"You're not going to read it?" the other girl asked, looking slightly crestfallen.

"No," Katie said shortly and she entered her work zone again, shutting out the rest of the world.

She knew what that letter was. It was a follow up on going out to lunch that day and Katie didn't want to. She didn't want to see Oliver—or anyone for that matter—until she absolutely had to. She couldn't lie, she was rather excited about seeing her friends again, but she was also afraid of the memories they were going to cause her to relive, whether they did it intentionally or not. She was scared of how they were going to behave toward George and herself. If they brought up Fred, it would hurt. But if they avoided talking about Fred, it would be just as bad. She sighed. There seemed to be no happy way out of the situation. Katie needed time to brace herself for that, and interacting with an overly concerned Oliver Wood would not help. More than anything else, however, Katie was unsure of how to interact with someone who was still brimming with life; Oliver had lost no family or close friends in the war and still remained the same person he had always been. She, on the other hand, felt like a mere shell of who she used to be. How do you bridge the gap between two people like that?

And so, Katie worked on in the comforting prospect of another solitary lunch hour, which she would whittle down to thirty minutes with any luck. Because she was so far ahead with her stories, she was forced into doing menial office tasks such as fetching Germaine Hudson's coffee or running interview requests to the Owlery. Excluding the fact that she spent most of the time trying to dodge prying reporters, Katie did not mind this situation too much. She understood that it was a part of being the youngest, most inexperienced journalist on the team as well as a product of being an overworking fanatic. It was approaching noon and she was just getting a shipment of faxes ready to go when, once again, the increasingly familiar Scottish brogue startled her from her thoughts.

"You've an incredibly bad habit of not opening letters; you know that, Katie Bell?"

Katie took a breath and turned around in her wheeled chair to look up at Oliver who was gazing down at her with a slight smirk on his face, brown hair windswept, head cocked to the side. He was observing her with an interesting expression that Katie could only define as amused impatience. Jacquelyn was staring at the pair of them with very wide eyes.

"If you were able to develop that happy habit," he continued, pushing aside some of Katie's many piles of papers and sitting on her desk, "You would have had the pleasure of meeting me at Armando's Diner fifteen minutes ago." He continued to look at her with that same bemused expression that confused Katie. She stood up and began to restore her workspace that Oliver so casually took apart, but could not avoid his probing glance.

"I—er—" Katie tried to find the words to tell him that she didn't want to spend time with someone who was happier than she was.

"You know, for a journalist, you seem to be strikingly ill adept with words. Let me help you out. Try, 'I'm sorry, Oliver, I was looking forward to meeting you today but in my excitement I forgot to open your letter specifying the details of our lunch time rendezvous.' Can you do that?"

Katie now scowled at him. "I never agreed to go to lunch with you," she said icily, but Wood seemed undaunted.

"Close, Bell, but you're still not quite there. No matter, though," he said cheerily. "I guess I'll just collect you now and we'll apparate there in a flash." He stood up and took hold of her wrist, much to her chagrin. He half walked, half dragged her across the floor and called out to her boss.

"Madame Hudson," he said loudly, "Katie Bell's going to be taking her lunch break now, though she might be gone past the usual hour."

Hudson simply stared up at Oliver, star struck. She smiled and said, "Sure thing," albeit slightly breathlessly. Katie rolled her eyes over the simple power that being a quidditch star exuded and in a second the pair was standing outside a comfortable looking restaurant on a corner of Diagon Alley. Katie let go of Oliver's hand and walked around in a little circle, looking up at the scene surrounding her.

"I've never been here before," she admitted. "It looks nice."

"It is," Oliver said enthusiastically. "Named for Armando Dippet, old headmaster of Hogwarts. Before our time. But then again, you'll know that." He grinned at her and Katie forced a guilty smile. It was common knowledge that Katie Bell had visited the Headmaster's office more than once during her time at Hogwarts and consequently knew a great deal about the layout within. Being rather more observant than either of the Weasley twins, she had often provided important information about such, albeit with her palm placed against her forehead in frustration at the oblivious nature of the pair of them.

"Let's go inside," Oliver said gently, forcing Katie out of her revelry. She simply nodded and followed him inside the simple, but bright diner.

The faces of the handfuls of people that had come to the diner for lunch raised in surprise at the two as they pushed open the door and went inside. At Oliver, they gawked unabashedly—females in particular, Katie noticed—and at Katie they stole glances from over the tops of their tea cups before darting away quickly as her eyes met theirs. Among this varied collection of people were Minerva McGonagall and old Professor Sprout. They lifted a hand in greeting toward Wood and then, suddenly noticing Katie, looked rather shocked but recovered themselves as they nodded toward her rather solemnly. Katie let out a small, sad sigh and repeated the gesture. She was used to people behaving awkwardly around her, but it still hurt when people she knew tolerably well avoided friendly behavior, as though being around her for too long would cause them to be infected with her grief and send them into a personal melt-down of their own.

Whether Oliver witnessed this or not, Katie couldn't tell, but he smiled encouragingly at her as he said "Come on," and directed her into a small booth by a window. The sun which had been out earlier had been mysteriously eclipsed by a rash of gray clouds, causing the sky to cast a rather subdued light over London. Small droplets of rain began to cling to the windows.

"Strange, isn't it?" Oliver commented, gesturing to the weather outside. "Rain in July. Oh well, I suppose it _is_ London."

"Are you living here now, then?" Katie asked politely as she perused the menu.

"Yeah, I am," he returned, picking up his own. "I've got a small flat on Baker Street. It isn't much, but it works for what I need. Still visit Mum and Dad up in Edinburgh on weekends, though."

"That must be nice for you." She thought guiltily of her own neglect of visiting her mother. _But I see her about every night for a few hours at the Weasleys_, she reminded herself.

Oliver laughed good-naturedly. "Oh, it's alright. Most of the time Mum sends me back with enough food for an army while Dad interrogates me about wearing the family kilt under my robes."

Katie smiled, bemused. "Really?"

"Unfortunately, it's true." Oliver's dark eyes shone out at her as he said this and Katie felt the unfamiliar urge to burst out in laughter. Unaware if this would damage the Scotsman's ego, she buried her reddening face behind her menu.

"It's okay, Bell, you can laugh," Oliver grinned, pulling the menu down to look at her.

"Thank Godric, because the thought of you flying around in a kilt is unforgivably ridiculous," Katie laughed, a hand running distractedly through her hair. Oliver just continued to observe her with that same small smile on his face. Katie stopped laughing.

"What?" she asked, smile still lingering on her lips.

"Nothing," he said pleasantly, picking up his menu again. "It's just _really_ good to hear you laugh again. Even though it was at _me_, it's still good."

Katie side-stepped the obvious invitation to share her current feelings and carried on the light-hearted conversation.

"Yes, well, when we were at school I'm sure the only times you ever heard me laugh were at your expense….Sorry, Ol," she added, seeing his face contort indignantly.

He shrugged now, laughing it off. "S'alright," he said. "It's probably true. Fred and George were always pulling some hare-brained prank or other on me and you were usually their greatest accomplice."

His eyes twinkled, but her face now fell as she stared into her coffee cup. She appreciated what Oliver was trying to do, but she wasn't ready to reminisce over good times with Fred. Not quite yet. She shifted awkwardly, raising the cup to her lips with both hands to try and avoid presenting Oliver with an opportunity to try and take her hand in comfort. She found that she was lashing out irrationally at people who wanted to give comfort—with the small exception of the Weasley family—and she didn't want to show Oliver that side of her again. Especially after what she had done to him in the lunch room yesterday.

Wood seemed intelligent enough to know that he had touched a nerve and quickly covered his tracks.

"Have an idea what you're ordering yet, then?" he asked lightly. Katie silently praised him for knowing not to touch her again.

"I'm not sure yet," she said, eyes flicking back to the menu. "Do you have any suggestions? Pick something with large portions; I know that you know I eat a lot… 'You'll want to make sure your broomstick can still hold you up, Bell'."

Wood laughed incredulously and stared at her, eyes widening. "I actually _said_ that?" he questioned, looking aghast.

Katie laughed a little at his surprise over his own insensitivity. "You absolutely said that," she said vindictively. "A girl doesn't forget comments like that. Even from huge prats such as yourself."

"I always wondered why you didn't seem to like me," he said, running his fingers through his own short dark hair, causing it to stand up a little at the ends. "Now I know why."

"Oh, Ol, I liked you. You were just a little high maintenance sometimes."

He laughed. "There's the understatement of the year."

She nodded, accepting this admittance of Wood's.

"You were never even _close_ to being fat."

"It's nice to hear you say that, Wood. Those comments shattered my self esteem and continued to plague it for several years afterward."

"My sincerest apologies, your highness."

"Thank you."

"Why don't you try the garden salad then? That won't give you any reason to doubt your new found self image."

Katie looked up, shocked. "You did not just say that!"

"I think I did."

In one swift motion, Katie leaned across the table and smacked Oliver upside the head. "Bloody tosser," she muttered, resituating herself as Oliver rubbed the back of his neck.

"Dammit, Bell. I taught you too well. Didn't see that coming."

"Yeah, well. That's why you were always such a dreadful keeper."

"Are you serious?! I'm playing _professionally,_ Bell, and the captain thinks I've got real—"

But Katie held up her hand. "Oliver, please. I really don't want to hear about it."

"So you weren't serious."

She rolled her eyes. "Hardly."

"Well, good then."

The rest of their lunch passed by pleasantly, with the only major incident being Katie's spilling of her soup into her lap and the hunt to find her a new skirt afterward. For the first time in a long time, she was able to forget for a half-an-hour together that she was a miserable wreck and that her life was in shambles. She almost felt happy. Which was new and certainly welcome. When she dropped by the Weasleys' that night, she brought two pies instead of one.

But as soon as she returned to her own small flat, the old sadness began to creep up around her, reminding her that happiness seemed to be a small blanket which would never cover her feet no matter how she struggled to wrap it around herself. As she slowly combed out her hair, the dim light that reflected off of the silver ring eclipsed the small smile that had somehow found its way to her face earlier that day and she went to bed feeling as small as she ever had, bringing her knees up to her chest and staring out into the darkness, the antics of Oliver Wood completely forgotten.


	5. Human Again

**A/N: This is the last really angsty chapter for a while, guys, I promise. Thanks for tagging along with me as long as you have. I had the melody line from Brand New's "Jesus Christ" going through my head when I wrote this. I'm not sure if that helps anything…but I think it's a good mood setter if you happen to own it. **

**Much Love, K.J.**

It had been four days since she had gone to lunch with Oliver, and Katie Bell was back at Alki Beach. This time, however, she was not alone.

"Is that your fiancé?" asked the twenty-something strawberry blonde behind the counter. Though she was obviously older, the coffee house worker seemed to interact with Katie as someone much younger. She figured that the recent sadness in her life had aged her quite dramatically.

At this comment, Katie looked up surprised to find the girl looking pointedly at George who was glancing around the coffee house curiously, seeming particularly interested in the automatic garbage can and was waving his hand back and forth, constantly opening and closing the lid. She shook her head at the girl, almost confused.

"Oh," she flushed, accepting Katie's money and putting it clumsily into the till. "I'm sorry. I just thought…" She let her eyes drift toward the ring on Katie's left hand.

"Oh…" Katie said, understanding. "No…my fiancée was—well, anyway, he passed away. Last month."

The girl, whose name was Mandy, opened her mouth in shock and clutched at her chest. "Oh my God," she said, disbelieving. "I am _so_ sorry. No wonder you look so sad all of the time."

"It's alright," she murmured. "That's his brother," she added off-hand, remembering what had brought about the topic in the first place.

"How terrible!" Mandy said, still reaching at her heart. "But that's so nice of him to come here with you while you're visiting your sister. Was he older or younger than your fiancé?"

"They were twins, actually," Katie said quietly. For some reason, talking to this muggle girl didn't pain her like speaking to so many other people did. It was kind of like explaining to a toddler that something very terrible had happened and having the toddler struggle to give comfort over something that they did not quite understand.

"Well how terrible for him, too, then," Mandy said, pushing over two lattes and patting her on the hand. "I hope everything works out for you two."

"Thanks," Katie said sincerely, looking at the girl in an odd way. She found it strange that she actually seemed to mean everything she said. She shrugged it off and went out into the grey afternoon.

Once they were outside and on the beach, she handed George his cup wordlessly. This was the third time he had joined her in her trips to Seattle and it felt good. There was something about walking next to George and holding his hand that was strangely comforting. Sometimes they sat down and talked until the sun set. These conversations, while still devoid of spirit, were growing increasingly longer and Katie felt good about them.

"You know," George said, breaking the silence as they walked hand-in-hand along the rugged coast. "I never thought there was anything particularly interesting about what Dad did for a living, but now that I'm out in the muggle world a bit, I'm seeing that there's something to it."

Katie smiled faintly. "You mean the automatic garbage can lid?" she asked, slightly amused.

"Absolutely," he said enthusiastically. "It's pretty fascinating, isn't it? The things they can come up with?"

She nodded. "I played with that thing for ages when I first started coming here until people gave me too many funny looks."

"People have always given you funny looks, Kates."

"I wouldn't be talking, George. I'm not the one with a hole in the side of my head."

"Oh, har har. Bugger off, Bell."

Katie laughed lightly and let go of his hand, walking ahead. The wind felt good against her face. They walked apart for a while until she could no longer hear George's footsteps trudging through the sand behind her. She turned around to find him stopped, looking curiously out into the sea.

"You alright?" she asked, squinting into the sunlight. For as grey a day as it was, the sun was still very powerful.

"I'm thinking about reopening the shop, Kates," he said, without turning to look at her. She cocked her head slightly and waited for him to go on. In the past few days that they had spent together, Katie had learned that George had a way of talking out his thought process and that this opening line was merely a starting point for figuring something out that had evidently been weighing on his mind quite a bit lately. She was correct in this assumption; he continued on.

"I mean, I'm not sure how I'll do it yet…but doing _nothing_ is driving me crazy and I think—I think it's what he might have wanted me to do." He turned to look at her and Katie knew that it was now her turn to speak.

"Come here, George," she said quietly, reaching out to take his hand and sitting with him on a piece of driftwood facing the ocean. 

"What made you say that?" she asked, releasing his hand and pulling her own inside her jacket sleeves.

George reached inside the pocket of his old brown coat and pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. Katie looked at him curiously as he slowly unfolded it and handed it to her. She accepted it and her brow furrowed into a knot as she recognized Fred's sloppy handwriting.

"Where did you get this?" she asked breathlessly, not yet daring to read the small note that was dated a day before his death.

"Found it underneath one of the rungs on my bed," he said simply. "The night you told me about Alicia inviting us out."

Katie nodded, looking down at the note that had apparently brought such a change over the remaining Weasley twin. What she read made her smile.

_Dear George,_

_This is your better half here. That's right, Fred Weasley—everyone's favorite twin. If you're reading this, I'm dead. Funny thought, isn't it? Me being dead. However, because this strange reality may actually come to pass, I've written the following especially for you:_

_Get off your good-looking (but not quite as good-looking as my own) arse & make something of yourself. I'll not have you wasting away like the bloody tosser I know that you are._

_See you in the next life!_

_Your twin,_

_Fred_

In spite of herself, Katie laughed. "You're right, mate," she said. "I think Fred _was_ trying to tell you something."

George grinned, too. "Yeah," he said. "Though subtly. You know Fred, always the tactful bloke."

Katie smiled and nodded her head. "Wish he would have sent one of these to me," she said suddenly, staring out into the ocean. "I could have used it right about now."

George looked taken aback, but placed an arm around her shoulders. "He loved you, Kates," he whispered fervently. "More than anything. Trust me."

She nodded, shaking herself out of it. "Yeah, I know," she said. "_So_. Tell me about your terrific plans for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes."

"Well…" he said slowly, as though doubting the smile that was on her face. "I've heard that Lee's reconsidering his talk radio career, so I thought I might see if he'd be interested—"

"George, that's a great idea!" Katie said a little too enthusiastically. "He'd be a terrific help."

"Yeah…" George said, as though still unsure. "For now, I mean. Ron's agreed to join me in the business once he finishes those mail courses to replace 7th year."

"You've already asked him?" she pressed.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, and he seemed pretty excited about it. That way we could keep it in the family, you know? It's just…"

"Just what?"

"I don't know, Katie. It's going to be so hard."

She looked at him sympathetically, understanding exactly what was going through his mind. It might be alright—amusingly comforting, even—to imagine that Fred had spoken to him from beyond mortality with a playful jibe and a laugh, but the truth was that if it had been George who had died and Fred who lived, Fred would be sitting here with equal emotion. He might even be more lost and distraught over the death of his twin; George had always seemed to have more of a capacity for dealing with complex emotions. Well, for a Weasley twin, anyway.

She sighed, searching her mind out for something that might help. "You know," she said tentatively. "The _Daily Prophet_ doesn't need me in the office near as much as I've been. What if I worked for you part time? I mean, I probably couldn't do much, but I could help set the store up. Get things reorganized, keep books for you…that sort of thing. Just until you're up on your feet?"

George's dismal face seemed to light up at this. "You'd really do that?" He asked imploringly.

"Of course."

"Merlin, Katie, that'd be…that would be brilliant."

She scratched his shoulders and smiled at him. "Let's start first thing Monday," she said. "After our rendezvous with the school folk. We can ask Lee to help us then."

George grinned at her. "Thanks a ton, Kates," he said. "Really. It means a lot. You're the only one I feel that I can really—I dunno—_talk_ to anymore. The only one who doesn't look at me expecting to see someone else." He shrugged it off lightly. "Thanks for that."

She just shrugged with what she hoped was an understanding smile and leaned against his shoulder. The sun was setting, meaning that it was around two in the morning in London. She considered telling George this, but she didn't want to move. The salty air whipped through her dark straightened hair unfeelingly, causing it to curl back up into its natural curl, waves, tresses, and general unruliness. She let it fly about wildly, flapping in her face without raising a hand to restrain it. The constant crashing of the waves against the shore lulled her into thoughts of what might have been and how this conversation would not have been necessary if only _he_ were still…well. Here. The pangs in her stomach returned gradually and her face melted into apathy.

George seemed to guess the direction of her thoughts and after several minutes, he broke the silence.

"Hey," he said softly, causing Katie to sit up and look at him. "You know when he was considering giving you that—" he gestured toward the ring on her finger—"he made me listen to him practice about a thousand times and at one point inadvertently proposed to a Batie Kell…I think he might have been a little nervous, what d'you reckon?"

He smiled lightly at her; he clearly wanted her to join in the small joke with him but for some reason grief reared its ugly head unexpectedly once more.

"I would have said yes anyway," she said, her voice breaking suddenly. "I would have said yes even if he'd forgotten my name entirely."

And as out of the blue as he had broken down those few nights ago, Katie now crashed into George's chest and clung to him as she began the process she had hypothesized would make her human again. George, clearly unprepared for this, nevertheless put his arms around her and patted her on the back awkwardly as she broke down entirely.

At first, no tears would come. She could only shake as her body heaved with dryness, small noises escaping quietly from between her lips. Then, slowly, she felt tears spring to her eyes and she counted them as they rolled down her cheek. One…two…_three._ Relieved that she had finally broken past her quota of allowable tears, the rest flooded out as she sobbed onto George's chest, clinging tightly to him. And he, to his credit, tightened his grip on her and pulled her up so that she was crying onto the crook of his neck.

"I prayed," Katie said, anguished. "I prayed _every night_ to whatever's…there…that they would just _take me_. That I could just die too so that I wouldn't have to feel anymore. So that I wouldn't have to hurt so badly anymore. I just wanted to _die_, so that I wouldn't have to try to go on. And no one knew! Nobody knew because I tried so hard to seem the opposite! I went to work every day for hours so that I wouldn't have to feel anything, but then at night all I wanted to do was go to sleep and just never wake up again. I wanted to _die_, George, I actually _prayed_ _for death_. And I still don't know if that's not what I want…"

She burst into a fresh stream of tears and he just stroked her hair and said nothing, allowing her the emotional release that she had sought so hard both to avoid and to find for over a month. He did not feel the urge to say anything; he seemed to know that that wasn't what she wanted. Finally—exhausted--she pulled back and looked up at him, green eyes turned turquoise from her tears.

"Thanks," was all she could find to say as she once more collapsed into his arms, this time falling silent as he redirected her head onto his lap and stroked her cheek softly until she fell asleep, energy clearly wasted from the amount that she had exerted in such a small period of time.

He looked down at her once she was asleep and cleared her face of the dark strands of hair that clung to her cheeks, wet from her tears. He looked out into the sea and continued to gently comb her hair through with his fingers.

"I'm glad you're still here," was all that he whispered as he took her hand and apparated with a small pop back to her apartment where he laid her down in her bed and set her alarm for her, giving her one last small kiss on her left temple before he went home.

And from that moment on, things were different between George Weasley and Katie Bell. They became allies, constantly looking out for the other, their own self-interest dissolved completely.


	6. The Reunion

**A/N: To those of you who I promised that this chapter would finally be their little get together, I'm sorry. Also, I apologize for the ridiculously long dream sequence and chapter. There was a lot to get through. I did extend it just long enough so that everyone made an appearance, however. Thanks a TON for your reviews & as always, keep them coming! I love to know what you think & where you want the story to go.**

_Kathryn O'Shay Bell ran through the overgrown meadow at top-speed, laughing merrily as her yellow sun dress billowed behind her. She was twelve years old and there were ribbons in her hair, the careful ringlets that had been curled by her mother earlier that evening threatening to fall out with each leap. Following close behind her was Fred Weasley, laughing equally as loud, a grin spread across his freckled face._

"_Did you see their faces?" Katie laughed, slowing down once they were out of sight._

"_Are you kidding?!" crowed Fred, catching up to her. "This is definitely one Sunday they won't forget."_

"_So you admit that I had a brilliant idea?"_

"_Yes, but _I_ executed it."_

"_With my help!"_

"_You helped a little."_

"_You great prat!!"_

_She laughed and tackled Fred, dark ringlets bouncing as they fell over and rolled down a small knoll. _

"_Worms in Percy's spaghetti," she reminisced, stretching out on the grassy patch once they were still. "I am brilliant."_

"_It was pretty funny," Fred conceded. "What was it that McGonagall wrote home about you? Brilliant promise, but devastating lack of maturity?"_

"_Her inseparable friendship with the Weasley brothers perhaps ought to be rethought—That was it!" Katie laughed, reaching over and grabbing a dandelion. She blew the fluff away lightly, sending its seeds out into the dusk of the summer evening. _

"_And when do you plan on acting your age, Miss Bell?" Fred asked, mockingly stern._

"_I shall never grow up!" she declared, grinning over at her friend._

"_It's a good thing, too, because I don't think I'd like you if you did," Fred said, winking at her. Katie responded by sticking out her tongue._

"_Yeah, you are _very_ mature," the red-head laughed, rolling his eyes. Katie giggled and threw her left shoe at him which caught him on the side of his nose._

_She leapt up giggling, breaking up a patch of fireflies as she and Fred raced through the lazy evening. He caught up to her easily with his long legs and grabbed her around the waist. She half laughed, half shrieked in protest until Fred caught a hold of her hands, grabbing both of them and starting to spin. She screamed with laughter as the pair of them spun each other around and around. _

"_You know why we're friends, Kates?" Fred asked, releasing her and watching her tumble to the ground._

"_Because I'm the only one who puts up with your stupidity and utter lack of gentleman like manners?" she asked, still grinning as she brushed the floppy ringlets out of her face and stood up, brushing off her dress._

"_Nope," Fred said, not bothering to help her. "It's because you laugh. Most girls go through these ridiculous mood swings and you just laugh. It's like you're just another Weasley brother."_

"_I resent that, Fred!" she laughed, shoving him playfully._

"_Don't get me wrong, I'm sure once I start going through the phase where I actually like girls, you'll be my first crush."_

_Katie rolled her eyes. "I'll bet against it."_

"_You would."_

_They were laughing when the rain started. The clouds gathered thick and fast out of nowhere, darkening the sky. The rain pelted the young friends as they yelled and ran back toward the Burrow, which was a good mile off. Katie ran behind Fred, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. Attempting to put on an extra burst of speed, she slipped on a particularly muddy patch of grass and landed on her tail-end, sliding and tumbling down a small hill. Fred heard her fall and turned around anxiously, but his friend was simply sitting on the wet and muddy ground laughing hysterically, rain drops falling off of her long lashes, her hair now wet and stringy. The sight of this made him grin and he walked over to her, offering her his hand._

_Katie accepted it, still giggling as he pulled a bright yellow umbrella out of nowhere and handed it to her with a wink._

"_But Fred, we can't do magic outside of school!" she said, shocked._

"_Who's going to know?" he said laughing. She shook her head and accepted it, though not quite able to stifle a smile. Katie looked up at him while blinking rain water away from her face, green eyes blazing. Fred's demeanor changed as he looked back at her. Smiles disappeared from both faces as Katie stood on her tip-toes, leaning in._

_And then she was falling, spiraling. She called out to him but Fred grew smaller and smaller as she lost herself in the rainy, wet air, still madly clutching the yellow umbrella. When she was standing right side up again, she was seven years older. She was dry, her hair now combed and she could feel sadness around her though she still held onto the yellow umbrella. She looked down at herself. She recognized this black dress…it was the one Fred had helped her pick out for Dumbledore's funeral. She hadn't owned anything black before then. Now, she seemed to realize, it was a good addition to her wardrobe. She had used it several times since. Fate and irony were cruel; that dress was now being worn at his funeral._

_The nineteen-year-old looked around her from underneath the brim of the umbrella. She hoped that its color wouldn't offend anyone here. She rather thought Fred might have enjoyed it. Katie was conscious of several things all at once. First, that it was raining in June. Second, that she had not changed location at all. This was the very same meadow she had been in just a moment ago. The only thing that had changed was the red-head by whom she was now standing._

_George Weasley looked over at her. She could feel a single tear make its way down her cheek and the roughness of his quidditch-calloused hand as it pressed into her palm. She turned over to stare at the simple blank tombstone that stood at the top of the hill. Several people were crying, Mrs. Weasley probably the loudest. A pair of people from her office were scurrying over the hill. She was conscious that George had just punched one of them. Katie blinked several times, trying to clear her head. _Fred has died_. She had to remind herself of that over and over again. Her head snapped up at the sound of an older man's voice._

"_Now if only the family would remain, please," he was saying. Several people, including her own family, walked down the hill and away from the grave site. They were heading back toward the house. Katie's head registered that she, too, ought to be leaving but she could not make her feet move. She knew she was terribly out of place, but none of the Weasleys seemed to be trying to force her removal. One by one they filed up toward the tombstone. Arthur. Molly. Bill. Charlie. Percy. Ron. Ginny. George released her hand and followed behind his sister. Numbly, Katie fell behind him and followed suit. The old man stopped her, putting out his hand._

"_Family only, Miss," He said. His voice seemed to be a thousand miles away. Katie could only stare at him. Suddenly she felt someone take her arm._

"_She _is_ family," Molly Weasley said gruffly, pulling her past the wizard. Katie moved like a thing possessed back behind George as Mrs. Weasley patted her on the back and took her place beside her husband. They seemed to be waiting for something to happen._

_Mr. Weasley moved first. He took out his wand, directing it slowly toward the blank tombstone. The words "FRED WEASLEY" appeared. He moved along. Mrs. Weasley went next. Through her sobbing she managed to form the words "Beloved son". The boys next. They chose "brother". Ginny wrote "friend". George took the longest time. He stared at his brother's final resting place, as though searching for a word that would best describe the man he had shared all of his life with. After several minutes, he chose simply, "twin". He walked over the join the rest of his family who were nodding their approval. Charlie set his hand firmly on George's shoulder without a word. Katie looked at them and they simply looked back, waiting to see how she would honor their lost loved one. _

_Katie stared down at Fred's grave. She searched her mind, but nothing would come. What one word could possibly encapsulate the years of friendship, laughs, love, and tears that had come into her life because of him? What simple formation of a few letters could hope to show all those who stopped here that Fred Weasley was the reason for her existence? The man who had helped to shape her into the woman she had become? The man who she had been hoping to share her life with? To grow old with? To die with? The utter impossibility of the problem consumed her. At last, she raised her wand and wrote simply what was in her heart:_

If I had never known him, I would have never really lived.

_She looked over at Fred's family, but she already felt their approval. They didn't have to nod._

"Katie? Katie, wake up!"

George's long nose was inches from her face. She stared at him wide-eyed and scrambled backward, bashing her head against her bed post.

"Owww," she moaned, rubbing the point of contact.

"Are you alright?" George asked, looking at her curiously. "You were shaking."

"S'alright," she said thickly, trying to gain control of herself. "I just forgot my potion, that's all."

"That stuff you've been giving me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Katie said, picking at her left thumb nail and fooling no one.

"Har har, Katie. Like I don't know it was you. Thanks, by the way. Really helped loads, that potion did."

"Well thanks for waking me up at any rate. What's the time anyway? And how did you get in here?" The oddity of George's appearance in her bedroom was beginning to dawn on Katie. George grinned.

"It's 8:15 in the morning," he explained patiently, though with a hint of playfulness in his voice. "It's Saturday, which means we meet our friends in around four hours, and I'm sorry to invade your privacy, but I temporarily suspended the anti-apparition charm on your apartment complex when you wouldn't respond to my repeated banging on your door."

"Oh, that's right. I told you to come over. I'm sorry, George," Katie moaned, getting out of her bed. "Listen, I'll just be five minutes, okay? Let me brush my teeth."

Katie and George had decided sometime over the past couple of days that they ought to visit Fred's gravesite before meeting up with their school friends. Neither of them had been back since the funeral and they thought that it might help shed the last small part of the denial step of the grief process to go back. Secretly, Katie felt less guilty about spending a day with friends if she could somehow clear it with Fred first. She didn't want him left out. This, she knew, was utterly ridiculous and it felt somewhat vile but she couldn't shake the feeling of guilt every time she felt remotely free of grief—not that that was very often, but it was becoming somewhat of a more common occurrence.

Katie pulled on a pair of plastic rain boots and a jacket over her pajamas. It was neither practical nor fashionable, but she found that she cared less about that now than she ever had. George gave her a look as they headed out onto the street.

"Rain boots, Kates?" he asked.

"Shut up, George. They were the first pair I could find."

"It's summer."

"I thought I told you to shut up."

As they walked past the communal garden, Katie stopped and scooped up several brightly colored flowers, tying them together with a piece of string she conjured up quickly with her wand. She hastily attached a small roll of parchment which she had prepared in the bathroom after brushing her teeth. Several blocks down, George finally spoke.

"Those weren't your flowers to take, were they?"

"No, they weren't. But they were the best looking ones I saw."

George smiled and nodded appreciatively. "Stolen flowers," he mused. "Ol' Fred will like that, he will."

When they arrived at a deserted alleyway, they disapparated. Katie felt a tremor of trepidation as she looked once more onto the meadow that had held so many memories. George, now solemn, put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her, concerned. She couldn't bring herself to speak so she just nodded. They began the walk.

It didn't take long to find the hill where Fred's simple tombstone lay. It was covered in every manner of wildflower conceivable, placed there daily by Ginny. Katie felt a twinge of guilt and regret that she did not have the courage or fortitude to be like the younger girl. The two friends approached the site quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Now able to cry, Katie did so freely but silently. She stole a glance at George, whose eyes were shiny but not full.

_Fred_, she said in her mind. _Fred, I've not forgotten about you. George and I are just going to meet up with Alicia and Ange in a bit. Lee and even Oliver will be there, too. But we've not forgotten about you. We wish you could come with us, you always—_

Katie shook her head, trying to snap herself out of these guilty thoughts. Fred would have wanted them to have fun, wouldn't he have?

"He would have," George confirmed. Katie stared up at him.

"What?"

"He would have wanted us to go. That's what you're thinking, isn't it?" He was smiling through his misty eyes.

"It's bloody scary hanging around you so much. It's a good thing we're getting out today or else you'd be able to tell what I'm thinking all of time." Katie laughed lightly, brushing away her tears.

"That would be a dangerous place to be, wouldn't it? Inside your head?" George was actually joking. He had chosen this place and this time to start joking again. Katie could not comprehend this.

"How are you making jokes at your brother's grave?" she asked, half-mortified and half-relieved.

"Don't you remember what you wrote, Kates?" he asked, peering over at her. Katie's eyes drifted to the contribution she had made to the headstone.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah, you're right. Fred would've wanted us to feel _alive_, wouldn't he have? Not…not like this."

She firmed herself up and walked closer, kneeling down and gently setting the small bouquet of stolen flowers nearest to the words she had etched herself. She rolled up the small bit of parchment on which she had written the words _Remember our first?_ That bit of her dream hadn't been so bad. She could almost fancy herself still feeling the strange tingle of his lips on hers.

Katie straightened up and retraced her step backward. She was about to whisper to George that they ought to go when she tripped over something hard and sprawled onto the ground. She looked up at him incredulously, hardly daring to believe that he had actually done what he had done.

"You didn't seriously just _trip_ me, did you?"

"I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about, Katie," said George. He was twiddling his thumbs and attempting to appear innocent, but he had lost any sort of degree of innocence years ago and Katie's face was distorted in horror.

"You're awful!" she shouted, clamoring to her feet. "I can't believe you could seriously just _do_ that. Right here!"

The words indicted him and as Katie chased George across the meadow their actions indicted them both, but a warm breeze rustled through the trees and the grass and the meadow hummed as though someone was giving their approval.

Xxx

The first Saturday in August had dawned clear and sunny. There were no clouds to be seen for miles in the clear blue sky. It was a perfect day to meet up with your friends and Katie Bell had already vomited twice out of nervousness. She felt similar to her twelve-year-old self on the first day of try-outs for the Gryffindor quidditch team. She was so anxious that she had actually apparated over to her family's house to have her mother and aunt give her a pep-talk.

"They're your friends, love," Mrs. Bell said as she poured orange juice from her wand into a glass and handed it to her trembling daughter. "They'll understand you better than you think."

The slender woman with short sandy blonde hair smiled and winked. "And you look incredible."

"Thanks to me!" called out her young aunt from the couch in the living room as Katie sniffed.

Elizabeth Garibaldi had insisted that her niece have a new outfit for this day after finding out that Katie had simply planned on donning her usual weekend attire of an old quidditch tee and faded jeans. Consequently, Katie was now dressed in an actual outfit for the first time in quite a long while. Instead of jeans, she wore brown cords and instead of a t-shirt she sported a slightly low cut tank covered in small beige polka dots. She had a cropped light jean jacket over her shoulders.

Her hair she had done herself. Inspired by her dream from the previous night, her short hair now hung in fat sprigs of dark ringlets which bounced when she walked and shone with the smallest hint of sun made auburn. And she felt ridiculous.

"You really do look lovely," her mum repeated as she looked over at her daughter who was staring very fixedly on the glass of orange juice. "But…are you going to…you know?"

Katie looked up as her mother gestured to the silver band on her finger. Katie clutched at it defensively.

"No!" she said firmly, making sure she could still feel its firmness between her fingers. She could not possibly take off the last thing Fred had ever given her, token of one of their last conversations while he was alive. It was the only tangible symbol that she had left of his love. She was healing, but she wasn't to that point quite yet.

"Okay," Mrs. Bell said, retracing her steps quickly and neatly. "But do drink that juice. It will help to settle your stomach."

Mechanically, Katie obeyed. The citrus drink slid down her dry and sticky throat without protest. She set the cup down without once shifting her gaze. The large clock on the wall chimed the hour.

"That'll be time to get George, won't it, love?" her mother prodded.

"Yeah," Katie responded listlessly.

Mrs. Bell observed her unmoving daughter for a while before forcibly standing her up from her breakfast chair. She took Katie by the shoulders and looked directly into her eyes.

"Hey," she said. "You have fun today. You'll have nothing to worry about, just be yourself."

"But you always said that's hell for you."

"What's hell for me is another person's idea of heaven," she replied with a wink. "Now go get 'em. You weren't a second year Chaser for nothing, right?"

"And snag Oliver Wood!" shouted Elizabeth from her spot in the corner. Katie rolled her eyes as she disapparated, heading for the Weasley kitchen. She had made the mistake of telling her aunt that she was friends with a rising quidditch star and that she had been spending small amounts of time with him here and there. Elizabeth was convinced that today was a date and nothing that Katie or anyone else could say would persuade her otherwise.

Katie apparated with a pop into the kitchen of the Burrow where Mrs. Weasley was fussing over George, straightening his clothes and tugging at bits of the red mop that was his hair, attempting to smooth its unruliness.

"George, you really _must_ get a haircut, you know," she said exasperated. "You look a fright."

"How short shall I cut it, mother?" George asked with a grin. "So it's easier for you to see this?" He pulled a bit of his hair back, exposing the dark hole where his ear had been severed off. Mrs. Weasley winced and then let out a noise of frustration.

"Oh, keep it that way then and have everyone mistake you for being homeless!" she said, huffing. "I think I liked you better when you were hiding up in your room." But her eyes and slight smile spoke worlds of difference.

Katie laughed, causing the mother and son to notice her for the first time.

"Oh _hello_, dear," she said happily. "You look very lovely this morning."

"Spiffing," added George with a grin.

Ignoring her son, Mrs. Weasley now began to fuss over Katie, inquiring that she was alright to drive and that she had the complete set of directions to Alicia's home and the theater at which they were to meet. Katie had to smile at Molly's preoccupation as she assured her that, as always, everything was fine.

"Oh, alright then," she said at last. "Off with you two. Have fun, George! Don't forget your father wants _every detail_ on how those thee-ay-turs work—"

"Bye, Mum!" George shouted, closing the door on the still chattering Mrs. Weasley.

As soon as he was out of his mother's sight, George made several changes to his appearance. He unbuttoned the button up tee, letting it hang open, untucked the old quidditch tee shirt he had underneath and put his hands through his hair, scruffing it up once more. Katie couldn't help but laugh. _There_ was the old George, the one she had run round mad with at Hogwarts. She felt immediately better about her own polished up appearance. After all, this was the sort of way she would have looked on a Hogsmeade weekend. A comforting sense of normalcy filled her as she walked over to the Ministry car Mr. Weasley had borrowed for them that day.

"Remind me why we're driving again?" George said in a slightly whining voice once they were out on the freeway.

"Because, George," Katie sighed for the millionth time. "I had to get a muggle license for my job and neither of us has been to Alicia's in ages and we can't remember exactly where it is. And unless I know _exactly_ where it is that I'm apparating to, I'm not apparating."

"Well why can't we floo, then?"

"Her parents are _muggles_. They don't hook up their fireplaces to the network!"

"I still say we should've tried to apparate. I can sort of remember a white couch…Come on, Katie, let's try it."

"No, George. It's not safe."

"That's what would've made it fun for you before. You would've tried last year. You haven't gone soft, have you, Be—"

George was cut off as Katie suddenly swerved the car off the side of the road. Several people honked their horns as Katie turned to George, green eyes flashing.

"Do you _want_ to get splinched?!" she yelled, seething at the redhead in the passenger's seat. George immediately sank into his seat.

"No," he said quietly.

"Then shut up and hang on!"

And Katie maneuvered her way back onto the freeway, much to the chagrin of the other drivers around her. Several minutes later, George tentatively spoke up.

"You seem a little—erm—tightly wound today, Kates. Anything wrong?"

"I'm sorry, George," Katie sighed, rubbing her head with one hand on the steering wheel. "I'm just really stressed right now. I'm scared of driving and I'm a little nervous to see everyone again."

"So you decided to bite my head off?"

"It's the only thing that will shut you up sometimes. And it's not my fault you're still afraid of me."

"Yeah, well…you're bloody scary sometimes. You know that."

She groaned. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"S'alright. So why are you so nervous to see everyone?"

"I don't know," Katie mused, staring at the road. "I guess I'm afraid of the way everything's going to be. How everyone is going to be."

"Now that Fred's gone, you mean?"

"Yeah…" It was barely a whisper. In her peripheral vision, she could see George nod.

"I know," he muttered.

"Come on," Katie said suddenly. "Let's get some air." She played around with the various buttons the dashboard until she found the one that took the top down. She grinned over at George, who was staring up at it in amazement. She laughed.

"Feel the wind!" she shouted. "Doesn't it feel great on your face?!"

His solemn face suddenly split into a grin. "This is great!" he shouted, laughing.

"Some days need air," she agreed, stealing a glance at his happy freckled face. She smiled to herself, the way she always did when she thought she had helped to lighten his mood a little.

"Is it going to be awkward for you to see Alicia at all?" Katie asked after a while.

George just shrugged. "Nah, I don't think so…"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. We're still good friends."

Katie nodded, not quite sure if she believed him. Neither of the Weasley twins had had a high propensity for monogamy during their Hogwarts years—even Fred had broken up, made up, and fought with Katie constantly. They had had their share of drama and other romantic interests. George's dating career, however, was riddled with countless girls that no one could actually remember the name of, who came and went almost weekly. Then, to everyone's surprise, he and Alicia announced their couplehood toward the end of their fifth year. They dated for about a year and a half after that until Fred and George had performed their infamous flight from the castle; apparently Alicia had been completely enraged at George, calling the whole thing a desperate plea for attention. Katie suspected that she'd just been upset that he hadn't told her what they'd been planning. Either way, it ended the relationship. They still seemed to be friendly toward one another and she hadn't heard either voice any regret, but then there had been the war and it wasn't exactly like they had time for such petty concerns.

"Is it going to be awkward for you to see Wood?" George shot back at her with a devilish grin on his face.

"What?" Katie asked, staring.

"You know, now that you're spending all this time with him. He's going to be expecting you to put out, ol' Wood will. And why shouldn't he, he's gorgeous, eligible, and talented. Right, Kates?"

"Oh George, _sod off_," she snapped, but she could feel color rising into her cheeks for some reason she could not explain.

Then, out of nowhere, a large grey owl suddenly hit the windshield. Katie spun out, pulling the car over into a tiny grocery store parking lot.

"Damn!" she shouted, slamming on the brakes. George got out of the car and hurried over the animal which was alive, but obviously shaken.

"It's Alicia's," he announced. "It's always been a little near-sighted."

"Well what's it doing here?" Katie asked, craning her neck over the steering wheel to see.

George pulled a small roll of parchment off of its leg and got back inside, Alicia's owl under his arm.

"She wants us to meet everyone at the theater now," he said, showing her the note.

Katie groaned. "Great, Alicia," she muttered. "Just great. Like I didn't know where I was going before."

"I think it should just be around this corner," George said, pointing. "At least, that's the way she's describing it here…"

He was right. Katie pulled into the parking lot of the large and strange looking building and parked the car. She and George exited and with a deep breath, she looked around for their friends.

It didn't take long to find them; Alicia's blonde hair was glowing like a beacon and Lee's full head of dreadlocks stood out amongst the groups of people outside the theater. Beside them, Angelina stood discussing something eagerly with Wood who was listening intently. _Probably quidditch._

She looked around at George who was suddenly frozen solid. She understood how he felt. They both wanted to get back into the car and keep their problems to themselves without having to share it with people who couldn't understand, no matter how much they cared. She knew that they were devastated by the loss of their friend, but it was just _different_. Still, she couldn't turn back now. This had been planned for too long. So, with a deep breath, Katie took hold of George's hand, gave him an encouraging smile, and walked over to the circle of friends.

She and George were so uncharacteristically quiet that no one noticed they were approaching until they stood right in front of them. Angelina, Alicia, Lee, and Oliver stopped talking and turned to look at the pair of them. No one seemed to know what to do. Finally, Alicia stepped out. With a warm smile, she took Katie's hand and pressed it.

"How are you?" she asked. The tone in her voice was sincere, yet so unassuming that it flooded Katie with an outburst of affection for her friend that she practically attacked Alicia with a giant bear hug, burying her face in Alicia's thick yellow blonde hair. Her hair still smelled the same; Katie recognized the shampoo Alicia used in the locker room and in the bathroom and it flooded her with happy memories of school and quidditch. It was a familiar smell. It was Alicia. Her best friend.

She turned to Angelina. The mocha colored girl grinned with her pearly white smile and squeezed Katie tight, her braided hair swinging wildly. "You look great, Katie," she said. "And it's so good to see you!"

"It's so good to see _you_!" Katie said, laughing now out of relief. She couldn't understand why she had kept away for so long. This was like an oasis to someone who had lived in the desert for twenty years.

"Glad to see you made it, Bell," Oliver said now, grinning. He enveloped her in a tight hug, lifting her up off her feet. "I told you that you wanted to open that letter."

"You were right," Katie laughed. She turned to look at George. He was still standing awkwardly at the outside of the group, tugging on the sleeve of his button-up. Following Katie's gaze, Oliver immediately walked over to George and offered him his hand. Surprised, George accepted. Oliver pumped his hand enthusiastically and clapped him on the back. George grinned now and Katie felt a rush of appreciation for Oliver for the thousandth time.

"How's it going, Wood? Life in the professionals treating you alright?"

"What's all this?" Lee Jordan said, making his way through the girls. "You'll say hi to the quidditch nazi, but you keep your distance from your best friend?"

He barked it out accusatorily but his face was split into a wide grin. George just shrugged.

"Sorry, mate, but who's to say you're my best friend?" The two young men laughed as they hugged, pummeling each other on the back. When they parted, every one of Lee's dreadlocks was a different color of the rainbow. Oliver stared in shock and Lee in confusion as the girls busted up in laughter.

"What?" Lee asked, looking around. George had a smirk on his face and was looking upward, still failing miserably at the innocent look.

"What'd you do to me, George?" Lee demanded, grabbing a hold of his collar. "Is this your way of generating excitement for the joke shop? Because if it is, I swear to you I will never come in—"

George continued to try and look confused. "What? Lee, I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about…"

"Oh lighten up, Jordan, you look great," Ange laughed. "Almost handsome even."

"Really?" Lee perked up. He sidled over next to Angelina and coyly placed his arm around her. "So then, Johnson…"

"Oh, sod off, Lee."

Katie laughed until she had tears in her eyes. Everything was so…_normal_. Looking around her, she saw Lee still pursuing a reluctant Ange, George back to pranking on his friends, Alicia smiling, and Oliver wishing he had spent more down time with his old quidditch team. The only thing that was missing was Fred, but Katie could swear that she felt him somewhere, if only in the spirit of all that was happening. Grinning broadly, she linked arms with Alicia and the six friends entered the muggle movie theater.


	7. A Proposition

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I wish I could promise a brilliant chapter as payment for my absence, but I think you'll find that this is the product of severe writer's block. I can, however, promise better chapters ahead. Review, please!!! I seriously need it right now.**

"You can argue all you like," said the pudgy man behind the glass. "But I remember her and she's not coming into this theater."

"Oh come _on_, mate," Lee groaned, rolling his eyes. "It was two years ago!"

"Yeah, quit taking it out on her that you haven't been promoted in those two _long _years," George said to everyone's laughter except the person they were trying to convince.

"Watch it, carrot top, or you're not getting in either," he said, eyeing George. "Now listen, you lot. I'll sell you all tickets _except _her. She can't come in."

"Why?" Katie wailed. "I won't be loud again, I promise!"

"If you were only _loud_, there wouldn't be a problem—you were a bloody disaster! Yelling and shouting and pointing…and that poor old bloke you knocked over actually sued! You're not coming in here again. _Ever_."

Katie jabbed a finger at the glass, losing her temper. "Now listen here, you lumpy little—"

"I think what Katie here is trying to say," said Oliver suddenly, lowering her finger and placing a hand on each of her shoulders, "Is that she's very sorry for the inconvenience she caused, but she's a very different person now than she was then and she'd like to be given a second chance. Isn't that right, Kates?"

Katie was too shocked at the fact that this man actually seemed to be considering what Wood was saying to do anything other than nod.

"I can have you vouch for that, can I, mister?" he asked, his beady eyes going over Oliver carefully.

"I would vouch for her any day," Oliver said firmly. "She's very well-mannered."

Angelina scoffed loudly and then shouted as Alicia stepped on her foot. The booth operator didn't notice them. He was still eyeing Oliver.

"You sure about that?"

"Oh, of course. I'm her probation officer, after all." Indignantly, Katie kicked him in the shins with her heel. He shifted slightly, but his smile never faltered as he poked her in the back with his thumb.

"Alright then," the booth operator said, shrugging his shoulders. "You're courteous, I respect that. I'll let her in. But I'll keep my ear out for any news of you, remember that."

In a brief moment of amusement, Katie saluted him. He twitched his mustache, but Oliver steered her through the door before he could change his mind.

"Bloody brilliant, Wood," Angelina said, grinning once they were inside.

"Very nice work," Lee agreed. "I was about to modify his memory, but then you pulled that probation bit—very quick thinking and very fitting of our dear Kates."

"I rather thought so," Oliver said, winking at her. Katie scowled.

"Did I tell you I moved in with Ange?" Alicia said quickly, taking Katie's arm and moving her aside.

"No," Katie said, distracted. "Why?"

Alicia half-smiled. "I'm about to turn twenty," she said. "It's about time, don't you think? You have your own place."

"Yeah," Katie nodded. "So what's that like?"

"It's great, but—oh, you know Ange. New bloke over every weekend."

Katie grinned. "Yeah, that sounds like Ange…"

"I resent that," Angelina said coldly, moving over by them.

"Not as much as _I_ resent it," moaned Lee. "All those blokes and you won't even go out with me once."

Angelina just tossed her hair.

"I think you might want to give up on that one, mate," George grinned. "Head for open waters."

"I can't, I'm in love."

The six friends laughed as they found the right theater and entered through the swinging doors, arms full of treats from the concession stand. Once they were inside, four heads tilted backward and stared up the screen in amazement.

"It's huge!" said Wood.

"Wow," Lee echoed.

"So this is where we watch this movie thing?" Angelina asked loudly.

"Shh!" Alicia hissed. "You need to act like muggles!"

"Well I don't see how muggles can look at this thing as normal," George pondered, scratching his head. "How does this work exactly?"

"You'll find out in time, dear. Be patient," Katie said, patting his arm. He rolled his eyes at her, but a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

They found an empty aisle and sidled in. First Alicia, then Angelina, Lee, George, Katie, and Oliver brought up the rear. She amused herself by looking at the various muggles around her, chatting excitedly and—in some cases—snogging in particularly dark corners of the room. She felt warmth inside of her as she sat amongst her old friends, watching them talk and flirt and laugh. She suddenly noticed the absence of George's voice and turned to find him looking rather sullen. Curiously, she followed his gaze and noticed a mother herding a pair of twin boys into the front row. Katie sighed.

"Hey," she said. George looked over as she tossed a piece of popcorn at him, which hit and bounced off of his nose. She grinned playfully. George's mouth twitched as he reached over and messed up her curls.

Minutes later, the movie began. Katie was now accustomed to this strange phenomenon and did not yell, shout, or knock over an elderly man in front of her. Instead, she watched amused as Oliver, George, Lee, and Angelina's eyes grew wide. Every few seconds, George would lean over and say loudly, "Katie, did you see that?!" much to the chagrin of those around them. After she stopped responding to him, he turned to Lee and the two exchanged several variances on "Brilliant!", "Wicked!", and "No way!"

To her left, Oliver's deep brown eyes reflected amazement and his mouth hung slightly open. Smirking, Katie reached over and gently pushed his chin back up.

"Hey," he hissed. "Watch out, or I'm telling your friend in the ticket booth that you've misbehaved."

"You wouldn't _dare_."

"Wouldn't I?"

"I won't go to lunch with you anymore if you do." 

"Well now that would be a shame because I've so enjoyed our time together over the past couple of weeks."

"Oh, me too. Definitely."

"Was that sarcasm, Bell?"

"Watch the movie, Wood."

But she had a slight smile on her face that she couldn't seem to get rid of.

XxX

Katie Bell wasn't saying much. She was actually quite content to sit under the big umbrella at the café table in Diagon Alley and sip her lemonade thoughtfully as her friends yammered on about quidditch and the latest broom design. She kept watching for signs of the old flame between George and Alicia, but she was finding nothing. The former couple sat separated by herself and communicated as normally as any one of them would. Alicia did not glance shyly at George when she laughed at one of his jokes and George did not seem to cater toward Alicia as he used to. They really did seem to be over one another as he had said. Katie reflected on this with sadness; she was hoping Alicia would prove a positive distraction for George. Of course, she figured, George had a great deal more on his mind, and would for a while, than a former school girlfriend. She had to marvel at his ability to think of _anyone_ besides Fred at the moment, let alone romantically.

"Absolutely not," Oliver said suddenly and with great fervor. "Kenmare doesn't stand a chance this season without Michael Bell."

Immediately, everyone's heads turned toward Katie, sister of Kenmare's incredible Seeker. They all had strained looks on their faces and Wood was looking particularly anxious, penitent for his remark. Katie opened her mouth and then closed it again. She had been prepared for her friends to avoid or act awkwardly around the subject of Fred, but it hadn't entered her mind that her brother could have been a possible source of discussion. She wasn't sure how she felt. Despite her resolution that today was going to be a day of healing and light-mindedness, she suddenly felt a lump in her throat. Katie searched her brain for something to say that would let her friends know she was alright, but nothing was coming. She was about to excuse herself for a lack of better options when George suddenly burst forth in a noisy fit of hiccupping.

"You alright?" Angelina asked curiously as the rest of them turned to stare at George.

George continued to hiccup for a few more seconds, swallowed, and then grinned, holding up a small red sweet.

"Hiccuping humbugs," he declared proudly as nearly everyone laughed. Katie was still shaking as the others clamored to get a better look at it, but George placed his hand firmly on her knee and Katie knew that the distraction was for her. She took his hand and squeezed it, exhaling deeply and returning to herself.

"Does this mean you're going back into business?" Lee asked excitedly.

"Sure does," George grinned back. "Grand opening's a month from today, just in time for the students to fill their trunks before heading off to school. Good timing, I thought."

They all looked at him incredulously, including Katie. He had not mentioned one word of this to her despite her promise to help him reopen.

"George?" she asked slowly.

"That's right, Kay. I had to do something while you were at work. I've made plans and I'm reopening on September 1st."

He turned to address the rest of the table. "Kates is helping set up," he said. "But I really can't go into business alone. That's why my brother Ron will be joining me. Oh, and Lee, too."

"He is?" said four voices simultaneously.

"I am?" echoed Lee.

"If you'd like," George returned. He was still grinning, but Katie could see that he was practically on tenterhooks and that if Lee said no, it would send him kilometers back from the point he had managed to reach. She looked between both men, silently pleading that Lee would agree to help out, even if just until Ron was able to work full-time.

Her fears proved unfounded, however, as Lee's face split into a wide grin. "Are you kidding?!" he asked excitedly. "I've been waiting to be asked that question for years! And my roommate's been a bloody nuisance lately, so it will be a relief to get to move out. There's still that flat above the shop, right?"

"Right," George said, a look of relief flooding over his freckled face, color returning to it. "I've got to get a lot of it cleaned out, but I'm sure it's going to be ready in time."

Oliver, Angelina, and Alicia were exchanging excited looks, clearly relieved and excited for their friend. Katie smiled complacently to herself, though she was not looking forward to George's cleaning out of the pre-mentioned flat. She was certain that it would render him quiet and reflective again, if not completely distraught. She tried to shove this to the corner of her mind, however. There was no point in stressing over things which had not yet come to pass. She patted George on the back and he returned her smile.

"Any of you lot want a free copy of _Quidditch Weekly_?" asked an acne-ridden teenager, approaching their table. "That bloke accidentally gave me two…hang on! You're Oliver Wood! You're on the cover!"

Oliver smiled awkwardly and shifted as the boy brandished the magazine at him. Surely enough, Oliver was on his broom, knocking quaffle after quaffle away from the goal posts.

"Will you sign it for me?" he asked excitedly, knocking over Alicia's drink as he dove in his bag for a quill.

"He'll sign it for you if give us your spare," Angelina answered for Wood, who was currently too uncomfortable to speak. The boy gladly relinquished one of his copies as Oliver signed the other, face flushing red.

"Oh come on, Wood, you know you loved that," laughed Alicia as the boy dashed off.

"I think I might have liked it more if the article was a touch more flattering," Wood replied, grimacing as Angelina laughed at the cover.

"Accident Prone Ollie: Rising Quidditch Star Oliver Wood Discusses his Many Injuries and Ingenious Plays," she read. "Well Wood, you've certainly outdone yourself this time. I thought you said you were going to let me interview you! What are you doing hanging around with Rita Skeeter?"

"I—" Oliver searched for an explanation, but Katie leapt to his rescue before he could answer.

"He was doing me a favor," she said quickly. "She cornered me after work and Wood let her interview him instead."

"She was bothering you again?" George said angrily. "That cow!"

Their friends shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of what to do. Saying anything would require a discussion of Fred—at least in part—and Katie could tell they were hoping to avoid this at all costs.

"Let it go, George," she muttered. "I'm fine, you're fine. We're all fine. Well, except Ollie, apparently."

She smiled at him and Oliver blushed again. He mumbled under his breath, but all she could make out was "Not that bad" and "Bloody exaggeration".

"It's really not that bad," Alicia said, backing him up. "I've been treating him. Just some bludger breaks and such."

"How's Grandpa?" Katie asked, steering away from the subject as George looked extremely discontent and Oliver's pride was taking a fall by inquiring after her Grandfather Garibaldi, her mother's father. The elderly man had taken two rather vicious stunning spells at the battle at Hogwarts and though recovering, was still hospitalized, under Alicia's constant care.

"Oh, he's alright," the young healer replied. "Recovering pretty quickly, actually, for his age. He always makes me laugh. Funny bloke. Asks about you quite a bit…"

Katie frowned, rather guiltily. Yet another person that she had been avoiding at all costs.

"We'll have to see him sometime on your lunch break, Kates," Oliver said bracingly. "Unless you'd like me to leave you to your solitary ways…"

He grinned at her, but she only smiled wanly. "Yeah…"

She stood up, feeling rather dizzy. Her friends voiced their concern, but she waved them off. "I'm fine," she said. "Just give me a bit."

Breathlessly, Katie walked with folded arms out of the small ice cream parlor's cafe and onto the main sidewalk. The weather was sunny, but a slight breeze ruffled her hair. She walked to the end of the street where she was sure no one would be able to see her and stopped, backing up against the side of a building. She exhaled deeply and covered her face in her hands. All these reminders of people she should have helped and those she could no longer do anything for…Her grandpa. Michael. Fred. Here she was, trying to live a normal life, when these people she cared about more than anything had had their lives altered and ended past the point of help. And George…poor, brave, suffering George who had gone out of his way several times that afternoon to protect her when he was the one who had, arguably, lost half of his life. _What's wrong with me?_ She thought desperately. _I'm hiding out from reality and I still can't manage to make it through a day of fun with my mates._

"Katie?" George's voice stirred her from her thoughts. She dropped her hands from her face and tried to appear normal.

"Hi, George," she said in a would-be casual voice. She had betrayed her feelings, however, in her eyes which bored into George's, attempting to focus on her reflection in his pupils instead of the concerned look on his freckled face which was so reminiscent of Fred's.

He seemed to struggle with how best to begin. "Want some company?" he finally said, shrugging and attempting a grin.

Katie sniffled and laughed a bit through her misty eyes. "Oh, George…" she said, sighing.

"Is that a yes or a no?" he asked gently, still hanging on to a smile.

She tried to smile back. "I think it's a 'no, but it would probably turn out better if you stayed' kind of answer."

"Buck up, Kay," George said, smiling weakly as he joined her in leaning against the red brick building. "Please? I hate seeing you like this, especially today after you seemed so happy."

"I don't know what came over me," she answered honestly, tearing up a little. "But when Alicia reminded me about not visiting Grandpa, it was like I understood for the first time how selfish I've been behaving. All I can think about is my own grief, so I've been hiding out and ignoring the people I should be watching out for the most right now."

She shook her head sadly as a tear rolled down her cheek. "And now that I'm trying to reestablish ties with everyone, I'm actually going to have to face it. And I still feel too selfish for that."

"Oh, Kay," George said seriously. "You're the last person I know that has any right to say that they were selfish. D'you have any idea how much it meant to us just to _have_ you there? You didn't have to stay, but you did. You've listened to Percy, you've endured Mum, you manage to make Dad smile, and you've stuck with me and drug me out of my pathetic excuse for an existence. _I _was the selfish one, staying in our room and shutting everyone else out. _You_ drug me out of that, Katie, more than anyone. And you continue to be here, that's the thing. You're braver than me. Wish I could be more like you."

George stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down awkwardly at the sidewalk beneath them. Katie was temporarily at a loss for words, George's unjust praise ringing in her ears. She could not think of what to do except hug him. In her outburst of emotion, however, she caught him off guard and nearly bowled him over as she pressed her face against his chest and burst into tears.

"Oh George," she cried. "How can you say that? How can you call me brave when you're the one trying to put your life back together and move on? You did that yourself! You're the one who's started inventing again while all I can seem to do is dwell on the fact that it's now been two months—Two months since I've seen him alive. Two months since I've heard his voice, or—"

She couldn't go on. This was partially because she was overcome with her own emotions, but also because she could feel his body start to shake and his knees weaken as he struggled to tighten his grip around her waist.

"It's not all like that." He was struggling valiantly to keep his voice from shaking, but Katie could tell that George was now crying as well. "It's not all like that, you know. Some days are just easier than others. I've been trying to put on a good face, but it's not that easy. You don't just _pick up _and move on, there's cycles, Kay. And we all go through them. Today was good, but—"

"But then I ruined it," Katie said, laughing through her tears. She could feel George shake his head.

"The important thing is that we've still got each other, alright? You, me. Ange, Alicia, Lee. Oliver. We can make it. We've got to, okay? I dunno what I'll do if we don't."

Katie nodded against him fiercely, choking out the last of her tears. George released her and she saw him quickly rub his red eyes, looking down at her with a smile.

"And Fred always said he liked you because you didn't cry," he laughed weakly. "Merlin, was he mistaken about that."

Despite everything, Katie laughed. He grabbed her hand and pressed it into her own.

"Come on, let's finish this day out the way it began."

And they did. That night, the six friends crashed on the floor of Angelina and Alicia's flat after an overdose on Fizzing Whizbees, pumpkin pasties, and even a few stale Canary Creams. George slept so soundly that he snored and Katie found herself waking up in the crook of Oliver Wood's sturdy arm. _It was a good idea to come_, she thought as she repositioned herself and closed her eyes again. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was something she knew, but felt as though she had long forgotten. It wasn't tangible, but it was in the faces of her sleeping friends as they shifted and snored. It was love.


	8. At The Shop

**A/N: PLEASE REVIEW. That's all I have to say. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE.**

Katie Bell now worked a regular eight-hour day. When she wasn't at the _Daily Prophet_, she was spending her coffee break with her mother and Aunt Elizabeth who had opened up a small herbs shop in Diagon Alley a couple of years ago, reestablishing family ties she had let die. She was over at the Weasleys' for dessert which seemed a much lighter affair now that George appeared frequently, told jokes, and even laughed; the prospect of their son and brother reopening the shop took a lot off of the family's mind. When they wanted to be alone, she and George would take their walks on Alki Beach and continue to support each other in their mutual resolve to heal. On the weekends, she spent most of every day with Angelina and Alicia, helping them furnish and decorate their apartment and going to Oliver's quidditch games that Angelina sneaked them into with her publicist's badge. Lee and George, when they weren't brainstorming new product designs, sometimes joined them. They reported that they were making progress and both men had now moved into the store, though they still had not opened the old bedroom George had shared with Fred when they were operating previously. Sometimes after work, Katie came by and helped them reorganize and clean out the building just as she promised she would. She was even able to help with some particularly tricky charm work regarding a lotion which caused boils to form, spelling out various insults on your skin.

She saw Oliver Wood frequently. Ludo Bagman finally offered to pay him for his services and he worked the small part time job in the morning on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; on those days, he and Katie spent the lunch hour eating, walking the streets of London, and getting to know one another. Once every few days, he came with her to visit her grandfather and Alicia at St. Mungo's. Grandpa Artemus liked Oliver quite a bit and the two would sometimes enter into long conversations about quidditch before Alicia would gently remind Oliver that Katie's grandfather needed rest. She found she enjoyed Wood's company quite a bit, surprising her with his generally laid back attitude…about everything except quidditch, of course. He had even shown up one day with a picnic basket, declaring that it was too nice a day to waste indoors. He didn't make her laugh as much as the twins or Lee ever had, but he was clever even without her friends' antics and she appreciated his company, loving to be around his wide grin and zeal for life which so outstripped and contrasted with her own.

Katie found, in a strange way, that she reclaimed part of her previous self when she was with her friends. It was odd, but it was as though she hadn't aged so very much in the last few months after all. When she was with George, this of course changed, but it was healthy reflection and time spent together. The fact that they were sometimes able to joke about each other's own solitary and solemn nature told Katie that things just might be okay.

In general, things felt—and were—a great deal happier. Elizabeth Garibaldi-Prewett had taken comfort in her father's healing, visiting him almost daily. Katie's own mother was happy in her strengthening bond with her daughter. The only thing that constantly plagued Andromeda Bell besides her husband's imprisonment was her missing son, Michael. Now that Katie's head had cleared a bit, she thought about her brother, too. Now missing for over three months, she could scarcely hope to believe that he was still living. She wished for his body to be found somewhere, whole, so that they could have a proper burial and memorial for him to get closure. Her mother, however, still held on with the strongest of hope that he was yet alive. It was this that worried Katie the most. She knew her mother was still on the edge and losing a son would cut her too deeply for Katie to be able to repair. She tried to talk to her mother about the possibility of Michael's being dead, but Andromeda refused to hear it. Katie always gave up with a sigh, smoothing out her mother's sandy blonde hair and wishing for _her_ sake that she wasn't right about her brother.

It was a Sunday morning after Katie had spent the night at her parent's house that she entered into yet another one of these conversations with her mother. Aunt Elizabeth sat at the breakfast table beside them, listening silently.

"Mum, I know you don't want to hear it, but I _really_ think we're going to have to start thinking about funeral arrangements for Michael. He's been missing for three months." Katie looked across the table at her mother with sad eyes. Andromeda, however, simply shook her head vigorously.

"No, Katie," she said firmly. "I know he's alive, I just know it. I'm his mother. Mothers know these kinds of things. Why are you in such a hurry to write your brother off as dead?"

She stared at her daughter with anguished eyes and Katie felt a slight gasp escape her mouth.

"Mum, how can you _say_ that?!" she asked, shocked. "Michael is my _brother_."

"Then why don't you start acting like he is?" her mother snapped suddenly. "He wouldn't have given up on you, you know!" She cleared the table with a flick of her wand and let the dishes crash into the sink. Breaking out into sobs, Andromeda disappeared up the stairs.

Katie sat trembling in her chair, unable to move. She chanced a glance at her aunt, who regarded her sympathetically and took her hand.

"It's alright," Elizabeth said quietly. "Your mother's been under a lot of stress; she didn't mean what she said."

"I—I don't want M-Michael to be d-dead," Katie struggled to say. She was still shaking uncontrollably, unable to get her mother's angry face out of her head.

"Of course you don't," her aunt said soothingly. "And Andromeda knows that. It's just been hard for her here, with your dad still in Azkaban and your brother missing. And you—"

"And me giving you all the cold shoulder and saying, 'Have a merry life without me'."

"And you having troubles of your own," Elizabeth said firmly. "And me living here and sucking out the rest of her energy," she added as an after thought.

"Oh, no one blames you," Katie responded fiercely. "This is just—this is just-"

"War," the other woman finished for her quietly. "This is what happens after war."

"Should I go to her?" Katie asked timidly.

"No," her aunt said with decision. "Leave it to me. But if you want to pop 'round for dinner tonight, I think she'll be all calmed down by then."

Katie nodded, disapparating from the house still worried. She ran her hand through her hair, attempting to shake it off and let herself into her flat. What was sitting at her small kitchen table made her gasp and drop her things.

"Oliver!" she said breathlessly, stooping down to gather up her bag and its contents. "What on earth are you doing here? And how did you get in?" Her mind went back to George surprising her earlier in the month and she made a mental note not to recommend this particular complex to anyone she knew.

"Landlord let me in," Wood said easily, grinning and standing to help her. "You'd be surprised at the amount of influence being an internationally famous quidditch star can induce."

"Did he also open the door for you in case you happened to let it swing back and knock you over, Accident Prone Ollie?" Katie asked darkly, gathering the remainder of her things before Oliver could reach them.

"Har har, very good one, Bell," Wood said sarcastically.

"What are you doing here?" Katie repeated. She attempted to sound exasperated, but she was actually rather relieved that Wood was there to function as a momentary distraction for her.

"Got an owl from Alicia this morning," he said enthusiastically. "Your grandpa's ready to spend some time outside today and she was wondering whether we wanted to join him. He's going out at noon, I thought we could spend the time until then getting a picnic basket ready."

"Alicia sent _you_ the owl instead of me or my mother? Or my aunt?" Katie raised an eyebrow.

"Well she said she thought if she sent it to you, you wouldn't think to invite me along," Wood grinned.

Katie rolled her eyes. _Typical Alicia move. _For the past couple of weeks, Alicia had been dropping not so subtle hints that there was, or could possibly be, something occurring beyond friendship between the old captain and his chaser. What Oliver thought of this, Katie didn't know, but her own plans included living a purely celibate life until she could be somehow reunited with the only person who had managed to capture her heart completely. Was Wood attractive? Oh, Merlin, yes. Did he make her happy? Certainly. Had she blushed in his presence? On more than one occasion. But could he ever hope to incur in her the same feelings as Fred had? Absolutely not. She had pointed this out to Alicia who responded by asking pointedly if she would then abandon her attempts to get her and George alone on a date together. Katie had sighed. _So much for love conquering all_.

"Well alright then," she responded, thinking of how much her grandfather seemed to enjoy Oliver's company. "But I think we should invite my aunt along as well. Grandpa Artemus is all she really has left anymore."

Wood nodded solemnly and agreed that this was a good idea. Two hours later, the three of them were carrying a fully loaded picnic basket up the stairs to seventh floor where Artemus Garibaldi was recovering. When they entered room 717, Alicia greeted them with a smile and the elderly man looked up in surprise.

"Well what is this?" he shouted. "I don't need a whole damn parade going out with me!" He feigned disgust, but Katie could see in his eyes that he was very pleased.

"Oh, you know you prefer it this way, Dad," Elizabeth said, kissing him on his wrinkled forehead and looping her arm through his. "We'll take it from here, Alicia, you can get back to your other patients."

"I'm not a _patient_, Liz, I'm recovering," Grandpa Artemus said moodily. Alicia just grinned and gave them directions on where they could go and then disappeared down the hall to tend to her other work. The three family members plus Wood made their way down the elevator and to the ground floor, where they emerged in bright sunlight. The old man's eyes filled with cheerfulness as he cursed at the "damn sun" for being so bright and grinned as Elizabeth escorted him carefully along a small dirt pathway.

In the middle of a discussion on the various advantages of the keeper's starfish defense maneuver, Grandpa Artemus suddenly barked out, "Kathryn! When are you going to start dating this fine young man?"

Oliver and Elizabeth laughed good-naturedly, but Katie froze in her tracks, stunned at what her grandfather had said.

Taking advantage of Katie's temporary muteness, Elizabeth replied, "Maybe she _would_ start dating him if we let them have a little time alone; what do you think?"

Katie opened and closed her mouth, gawking as her aunt and grandfather changed direction, saying that they had forgotten his favorite pillow in his room.

"Just go find a lovely spot without us, will you, dears?" Elizabeth called as the two disappeared from view. Katie reflected angrily on the old man's sudden capability to speed walk.

Scowling, she turned around and marched determinedly up the hill. Oliver laughed and ran to catch up with her.

"What, Kates?" he grinned, pulling her to him. "Don't you want to date me?"

"Quit mucking around, Ol," she said moodily. "My family is full of arses."

"But what if I'm not mucking around?" he asked suddenly. It was clear that he had not planned on blurting this out that day, but now that he had, he regarded her with seriousness and bated breath.

Katie's face melted into sympathy. "Oh, Ol…" she said sadly, squeezing his arm. She seemed unable to finish this sentence.

Katie liked Oliver; really, she did. He was becoming a good mate and quite impeccable at cheering her up when she needed it. Two and a half months, however, was hardly enough time to accept the reality that Fred was gone, let alone to begin dating again. In the quietest hours of the night, she still held on to the half-hope that he would emerge from behind her dresser and sweep her up into the familiar giant bear hug, saying that the whole thing was an elaborate prank and he was back to stay. Her dreams still consisted of fuzzy memories of Fred, and she still woke up each morning to the dull ache that came with realizing that he wasn't right next to her. In this state, how could she possibly go out with anyone? Even Oliver? And the thought of how this might affect George and the rest of the Weasley family seemed too much to bear.

Still, she could not put this into words. Wood seemed to understand her meaning in her eyes, however, and shrugged it off, smiling once more.

"S'alright," he said cheerfully. "But I'll be here when you are ready."

Every day after that, Oliver asked Katie out on a date. Every day, she said no.

XxX

Katie worked late at the office on Friday night. She had spent an extra two hours out at lunch that afternoon meeting with her mother and patching things up. Both mother and daughter wept as they apologized for their behavior earlier in the week and promised that from that time forward, they would be a team. The consequences of this reconciliation, however, meant that Katie stumbled onto the balcony of her flat at ten o' clock that night, feeling extremely tired and very guilty that she had not been able to make it to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes when it was due to open in just three days. Her feelings of guilt doubled when she noticed a note tacked to her door in George's recognizable handwriting.

Frowning, she unpinned the parchment and let herself into her flat. She dropped the old burlap messenger bag and unfolded the note as she sank onto her couch. Katie frowned instantly, noticing that George's usually untidy scrawl was even less legible, probably due to a shaking hand.

_Katie,_

_Missed you tonight. Don't worry about it, though; Ron, Lee, and I were able to get most everything finished up around here. Guess I just wanted your company. If you're too tired, I understand, but if not I could really use seeing you. Seriously though, Kay, don't come if you're tired from work and definitely don't worry. I'm fine, I promise. I'd write Flint over you in a heartbeat if I weren't. Then we could cuddle._

_George_

As quickly as possible, Katie changed out of her blouse and skirt into jeans and a Weird Sisters concert tee. "You're totally fine, my arse, George," she muttered as she threw her hair into a messy ponytail. "That horridly unfunny joke said it all."

She apparated to George's shop in half a second and began banging on the front door.

"George!" she called. "George, it's me!"

"Merlin, Kay, d'you want to wake up all of Diagon Alley?" the red-head questioned, opening the door and escorting her inside.

The shop looked incredible. Each product and display was masterfully set up, and brightly colored re-opening banners hung from the ceiling. The floor glistened and the entire place emitted a feeling of cheer. George, however, was tousle-haired and red-eyed. He had obviously been crying.

"George, you're _not_ fine," she accused, ignoring the jibe and gesturing to his note which she still held in her hand.

Her friend opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again, admitting defeat.

"Where's Lee?" Katie asked, slightly gentler.

"At Ange and Al's," George muttered, sinking into the couch of the small back room where he and Lee Jordan had been sleeping. He sighed and attempted to tame his unruly hair with little success. "He stays the night when Ange has some bloke or other over."

Gingerly, Katie sat down next to him and touched the crook of his elbow. "And Ron went home?"

"Yeah, he did."

She paused, hesitating. "You didn't feel like going with him?" she finally asked.

George just shook his head, withdrawing from Katie's touch and cupping his hands over his face. "S'hard," was all he could manage to say. His voice was muffled and shaky, but he did not seem to be crying.

Still, an enormous wave of sadness washed over Katie as she watched her friend struggle to fight his emotions. She didn't want to ask, but she needed to know what had set him off. She only needed to wait, however, as George breathed in deeply and moved his hands upward, out of his face, and through his red hair.

"It's like he's still here," he said finally. Katie just nodded quietly, waiting for him to continue.

"It's like he's still here, but I can't quite reach him. I can hear him laugh and I'll catch a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, but when I turn around there's nothing there. Just a voice saying 'I'm dead, you stupid git. Did you lose your sight along with your ear?'."

He laughed, but it was forced. "And it doesn't help that I'm always finding his old things lying around either. It's the stupidest things, too, Kay. His toothbrush on the sink, with the bristles all splayed out because he used to chew on it when he tried to brush and think at the same time. Old scraps torn out of our books from times when he got some brilliant idea and couldn't wait to finish balancing the books before he wrote it out on paper…I used to hate it when he did that. Last week I found his fourth-year charms book. He'd hollowed it out and kept a bunch of stuff he'd knicked off of me in there. Trick cards, exploding sweets. Copy of a class schedule…yours, I think. The twig from Alicia's broom she spent weeks doing her nut over. I looked at them, but I didn't touch any of them. Lee and Ron didn't either. I think they thought I was going to take care of them some time. And I meant to, I just…I dunno. I couldn't shake the feeling that I shouldn't move them in case—in case he came back for them some day."

Katie remained still and silent despite her urge to hold him tight and make all the bad things in his life go away. George took a breath and continued.

"Tonight, I tried to do it. I thought it would be alright. Lee and I had a good laugh over grinding up a Knicker Nutroll in Ron's soup—they're these new sweets that make your underthings shrink as you eat them—you should have seen his face, Kay, it was brill. Anyway, Lee ran off to babysit Ange and her date and Ron went home. I—I said I'd stay behind because I figured tonight I ought to gather up those things of…of Fred's…But when I tried to chuck them in the bin, I just _couldn't._ Not even the sodding toothbrush. It was something that was inside his _mouth_, probably the last place I'd want to be—no offense—but trying to chuck it, I realized then that he's really gone. He's really gone and he's really not going to come back. I don't know how long I stared at his body without being able to understand that. Now I do. He's _dead_, Katie, he's actually _dead_. My best friend is _dead._ And I won't ever get to see him again. My brother's gone."

Choking out those three final words, George suddenly collapsed into what Katie suspected to be the second breakdown that night. This time she was there, however, and she wasn't going to let that be for nothing. Despite the overwhelming desire to collapse into sobs with him, Katie mastered herself and took his head in her hands, forcing him to sit back up. She knew he had wanted her there instead of Molly or Arthur or Bill or Charlie, or any of the rest of his family for a specific reason. She wasn't quite sure what that reason was, but she was going to do her best to fulfill it. George looked up at her with wide eyes, as though surprised that she was not taking him in her arms and letting him cry. Setting her jaw firm, Katie wiped away George's tears with her thumb, oddly shaped as it had been broken several times during quidditch matches. She pushed his shaggy hair away from his eyes and looked at him sternly.

"Come on, George," she said forcibly. "Stay with me. _You can do this. _D'you hear me? I _know_ that you can do this."

"I don't see how, Katie," he said, struggling to control himself. "If I can't throw away a lousy toothbrush, how am I ever going to manage to clean out the old flat? Lee and I can't sleep in this room forever, especially when Ron joins us full-time. How do I do that?"

"You mean how do _we_ do that," Katie countered, with more conviction than she felt.

George looked at her, relief flooding over his pale face. "You mean that?"

"Absolutely," she said, though her insides were squirming and she felt as though she would have been better off if she hadn't been wearing gloves the day she touched the cursed necklace. "How we're going to do it is together. Right now."

"Now?"

"At this very moment in time. And then we're going to open a bottle of champagne, toast to Fred Weasley, and celebrate the triumphant return of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

George managed a small smile. "Thanks, Katie."

She smiled back. Then, acting on a sudden impulse, she leaned over and placed a small kiss just to the right of his left eye. To disrupt this act of poignancy, she ruffled his hair and got off the couch.

"C'mon, you leaky faucet," she called as she tramped up the stairs.

XxX


	9. In The Rain

Katie Bell was convinced that the world was spinning. She was planted squarely on the hardwood floor of the small flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and was the only object in the entire universe that was, at that moment, standing still. Everything else around her whirled: two unmade twin beds, piles of broken merchandise, the bulletin board which held dozens of pictures. Even the people in the pictures were spinning. Katie felt faint and was sure that she was about to fall over, but the sudden appearance of another still standing person helped her regain her balance.

"Katie?" George's voice and steady hand on her shoulder caused the objects in the room to stop moving. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Katie said dismissively. "Are you?"

George gave her a look which clearly displayed the stupidity of the question she had just asked. Katie nodded. "Right…"

"Listen, if you've changed your mind and don't want to do this tonight, I absolutely understand," George put out, but the stubborn brunette shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "I said we can do this and we _will_. Why don't you start with that pile of broken stuff and I'll tackle the closets?"

George nodded and crossed the floor, sitting on his old bed and starting to sort through the inventing discards. Katie took a deep breath and turned around, facing the closet door that was slightly cracked open. _This one's George's_, she thought. _I'm sure of it. It's the one that's closest to his bed, and the other one is shut all the way. George always leaves things open._

With this idea set firmly in her head, Katie pulled the door open the rest of the way. She immediately realized with a jolt that she had been wrong. This closet had belonged to Fred Weasley.

Everything about the small closet was distinctively Fred. Old trainers mixed with robes in various shades of shocking color reading "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" were scattered across the floor. His old button-ups, jackets, and quidditch tees were hung haphazardly on bent and broken hangers, some of which held up to three items of clothing. The only thing in the closet that looked undisturbed were rather nice looking robes which, Katie realized with a jolt, were the dress robes Fred had worn to the Yule Ball when he had escorted Angelina and broken Katie's heart. The clothes and the closet in general had obviously been rifled through the last time it had been opened. Katie reflected on this, and made the somewhat sickening observation that Fred must have grabbed and stuffed several of his clothes into a suitcase after having to flee the store with his family at the end of last year. She gripped the closet door's frame as she felt her knees beginning to buckle. Spell-o-taped to the inside of the closet wall were several pictures of Fred and George laughing together, one of the Weasley family in Egypt, and a few of Gryffindor's old quidditch team. In the middle of this picture collage, Katie's own face stared back at her. Her sixteen-year-old self laughed, light sun-made freckles sprinkled across her nose. The close-up showed bits of egg yolk in her dark hair and flour was smudged on her left cheek. Fred had taken this snapshot, she remembered, in their fourth year during Muggle Studies. She and Fred were partnered together to bake a cake without magic and succeeded in being the only pair to fail completely. She remembered how much Fred had loved to reflect on that day with her, over-emphasizing her prodding of her wand into the dough which caused the initial explosion while she privately remembered idly counting the steps he had taken in order to cross the room and fetch her a towel. There had been twenty-seven.

Katie wrenched her eyes away from the photo and pulled off all of the pictures with determination, though she could not help but notice the single word _Katesy _printed on the back of the one of herself. She placed the pictures in a spare box George had grabbed from the back of the store and turned to face the rest of the closet. She took a deep breath and pulled down an armful of Fred's old shirts off of their hangers. Katie turned to place them in the box as well, but stopped short, her defense system collapsing.

Slowly and deliberately, Katie lowered herself to the floor. With a quick glance to ascertain that George still had his back to her, Katie lay the armful of clothes on the hardwood and buried herself in them. It was Fred's scent that still clung to them that had overcome her powers of resistance. She now lay face-down on the pile, breathing in deeply the familiar smell of Fred. That's all it was; just Fred. _They smell just like you_, she mentally informed the face of the red-head with a crooked smile that was swimming before her eyes.

So lost in thought was Katie, that she failed to notice the appearance of George standing above her until he spoke.

"Did you need help?" he asked, clearly unsure of what else to say.

Katie looked back at him through misty eyes. "I've missed this smell," she admitted sadly.

"Katie…"

"I'm sorry, George," she sighed. "I didn't realize that this would be so hard."

George grimaced. "Why d'you think I've been putting it off? C'mon, Katie, I think I know an easier way."

He made a valiant attempt at a smile and offered her his hand. Katie took it, pulling herself up. As George muttered a few words and the contents of Fred's closet folded and organized itself into the cardboard box, Katie felt ashamed of herself. Her resolve to help George had withered; the grief-stricken twin was now helping her. Shaking herself out of it, Katie moved over to the beds where she performed a simple cleaning charm and folded the quilts—most likely made by Mrs. Weasley—and set them on the end of the bed. She found it easier to ignore what the objects were that she was sorting through and either organizing or packing away. With the least amount of observation possible, Katie made her way through the twins' old flat, cleaning and reorganizing. George remained glum but did not repeat his previous break-down. Concerned for him, Katie watched the red-head move like a ghost throughout the various small rooms of the flat, eyes lingering only momentarily on his dead brother's things.

At long last, George wound up at Katie's side and the two of them looked over the newly cleaned flat. George's eyes lingered on the two twin beds which Katie had magically moved to opposite walls of the bedroom. She guessed his thoughts, as it seemed completely natural for him to say what he did next.

"Lee can have mine." George said it with decision. "I'll take Fred's." He nodded, seemingly to himself, and Katie took his hand and pressed it, as though this would take away some of the pain that he was feeling. George quickly squeezed her hand back and then dropped it as he headed toward the door.

"Are you still up for that drink you mentioned, Kay?" he asked, turning back to her. "Because I sure as hell could use it."

"That makes two of us," Katie said breathlessly. Hearing George clamber down the staircase, Katie inhaled deeply and stared at the ceiling. She was trying to clear her head, but was instead distracted by an almost invisible piece of string that hung from the center of ceiling. Curiously, Katie pulled it. Instantly, a trap door opened and a small wooden ladder jetted out. The old chaser narrowly avoided being hit by it and gawked at its presence with amazement.

"George?" she called out. There was no answer. _He probably can't hear me_, she thought as she placed her foot on the bottom rung. The curious girl pulled herself up and climbed the ladder quickly. When she emerged, she found herself on the shop's roof. Wide-eyed, Katie wondered why neither of the twins had bothered to point out this feature of their building. The view was incredible: she could see the lighted windows of the Leaky Cauldron, the dull lights over new broomsticks in Quality Quidditch Supplies, and further up the road, lights were twinkling out as the owners of the various shops of Diagon Alley went home for the night. The shop's roof was fairly flat and Katie was able to stretch out fully, gazing up at the night sky.

It was a clear summer's night and the stars were visible, though threatening clouds loomed toward the north. Katie did not mind their presence, though she was glad for arriving in time to star gaze. Astrology had always been a favorite subject of hers, though she rarely indulged in it. She figured her love of the stars came from the fact that they contrasted so starkly with her own life. Katie's personality and journey through Hogwarts was often unpredictable, her moods and situations jumping as quickly as Trelawney from a Grim. Being such good mates with the Weasley twins, she never knew where her life would take her. That was especially evident now. But the stars always stayed there, no matter how old you got or how much you shouted at them. She let these thoughts flow out of her head and upward, disappearing into the vast space above her.

"Is that where you are?" she whispered barely audibly. "Out there somewhere?" It somehow comforted her to imagine that Fred was now among the stars, looking back down at her with constancy. She was disrupted from her musings, however, by the sound of George's reentry in the room below.

"Katie?" he called, observing the ladder with curiosity. "Where'd you go?"

"Up here," she answered back, leaning over to gaze through the opening so that he could see her.

"How'd you get up there?" he asked, still staring at her with confusion.

"It's a ladder, George," Katie explained patiently. "You climb up it, generally using your hands and your feet, and then before you know it, you're—"

_Pop_. George apparated beside her, a smug look on his face.

"On the roof sitting next to me," she finished dully, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't know that was there," George admitted, handing her a glass and pouring her some champagne. "How'd you find it?"

She explained that the string from the ceiling had suddenly caught her eye and he raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.

"Wow, Kay," he said. "Usually it's Fred and I who find—_found_—those kinds of things."

Katie covered the momentary awkwardness by setting down her goblet and taking the bottle from George to fill his cup for him.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her. "To Fred."

He held out his goblet and Katie clinked hers against his. "And the shop," she added.

"To Fred and the shop," George murmured back. The pair drank in silence. Refilling their glasses, they sipped silently and eventually lay down on the low sloped roof.

"How'd you know to come?" George asked, breaking the silence after a while.

"You sent a note, drongo, it wasn't that hard to figure out," Katie joked back.

"Ha ha, Katie. You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

"So how'd you know?"

She turned over to face him and shrugged. "I dunno," she said. "I just did. That's one great aspect of a best mate, you know. They see straight through your lies."

Her friend nodded and returned his gaze to the sky. Katie copied him.

"Well, thanks," he said lamely. Katie responded by patting him on the arm. When she did so, he took hold of her hand and pressed it. "Really, Kay," he said, more earnestly now. "I dunno what I would do if I didn't have you."

"Oh, I imagine that you'd be a lot better off without a whiny little girl tagging after you, demanding your attention and comfort every time she has a relapse."

"Shut up, Katie."

"Alright."

"By the way," she added after a while. "That joke you made about cuddling with Marcus Flint—"

"Terrible?" he questioned.

"Bloody disaster."

"Well forgive me for being unable to come up with my best material after a minor melt down." He grinned over at her. "Though I always was of the opinion that Flint was likely to be a very passionate and caring lover. Never could get Fred to agree with me on that one…"

"Which is yet another reason I'm confident that I chose the right twin."

George laughed. "You wound me, Katie. Take it back."

"I shan't. I do love you, but it's purely platonic. I'm very sorry."

"Do the duties of platonic love include coming to your best mate's opening ceremony Monday night?"

"Opening ceremony?" Katie looked at him curiously. George nodded.

"Yeah. Lee and I thought it might be a good idea to exhibit some of the new merchandise. We're doing it in a stage setting, so there will be stand up comedy as well." He grimaced. "Not sure how well that will go…"

"George, that sounds like a great idea," Katie said enthusiastically. "Seriously. And you'll emcee it brilliantly, I'm sure. Contrary to popular opinion, you're actually quite funny."

George gave a half-smile in response to her playful sarcasm. He reached over and messed up her hair.

"Flyers are going out tomorrow," he continued. "Hope to get some pretty good response. Tell everyone you know, if it's not too much trouble. Oh, and you can bring Wood, too, if you like."

Katie raised an eyebrow curiously at him. "Bring Wood?" she asked. He turned to face her.

"Yeah. Aren't you two…_you know_…now?"

She looked at him in shock. "George…no, George, no. Why would you think that?"

He shrugged. "Well it's obvious that he's smitten with you. And he's a famous, attractive, quidditch star…"

Katie gave him a look that told him to cut the joking. He complied and she rolled over, once more to face the night sky. The clouds were beginning to roll in.

"He asks me out every day," she said quietly, in a would-be casual voice.

"Really?" George asked, surprised.

"Yeah…" she drifted off. "It's hard. I know it probably sounds stupid, but I still can't help thinking of only Fred. He's the only person I ever did really love…"

"I know. And that's not stupid, Kay. Bloody hell, I'd love him if I weren't his brother…or a bloke."

He smiled at her, but it was a sad smile; one that pulled a little at Katie's heart.

"You really are the bravest person I know," she muttered, instinctively moving closer to him.

"I cried in front of you," he pointed out, moving his arm to fit under the crook of her neck and squeezing her into an awkward side hug. "Twice. Almost three times. Not very brave."

"Yes it is," she countered. "Don't argue over it. Just believe me."

George just shrugged and squeezed her shoulder. They lay in silence for a while, watching the clouds roll in and finally let loose on the great metropolis of London. George grimaced at the rain which was falling thick and fast as one raindrop hit him squarely in the eye. Katie just laughed happily, blinking back rain water as it drenched her clothes and made her hair wet and stringy.

"Oh come on, George," she laughed, standing up. "Don't tell me you've gone soft. This is the kind of behavior I'd expect from Percy, not you!"

"Is this 'Let's Point Out Everything That's Wrong With George Day' or are you just celebrating it early?" he grumbled, scrambling up to join her.

She just laughed and held out her hand. He shook his head.

"Nah, Kay, I'm not in the mood right now…"

"Quit being a prick," she argued back. "You will be once you start."

George half-smiled and took Katie's hand as she spun into him and back out. He began to laugh now as he twirled her around. Grinning, Katie let go and the two of them danced around the roof wildly. George let go of his inhibitions and yelled loudly up at the sky as Katie flounced about the roof, waving her arms and laughing into the rain. The red-head shouted, "Katie, watch this!" and with a running start leapt into the air and clicked his heels together.

"George, that is _so_ not heterosexual!" she laughed joyously as she began to spin around on the spot, lifting her arms up as high as she could. In response, George ran over and scooped her up, throwing her easily over his left shoulder as he began to spin.

"Merlin, stop it, I'm going to vomit!" Katie shouted, but she could barely form the words through her laughter. Suddenly, George did stop. Katie looked up from over his shoulder and slid down his chest.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, watching him squint into the distance.

"Isn't that your family's owl?" he responded, pointing. Katie followed his gaze and surely enough, the large tawny owl was making its way toward them through the storm.

"Morgan?" Katie said, bewildered, as the animal perched itself on her outstretched arm. "What is it?" She untied the small piece of parchment that was tied to its leg and unfolded it as George took the owl and performed a simple shield charm to keep it out of the rain.

Katie's eyed grew wide and she stumbled backward as she read the hastily written note.

_Katie,_

_Meet us at St. Mungo's. They've found Michael. We won't know anything until we get there._

_Mum_


	10. Michael Bell

Katie strode through the sterile, white halls of St. Mungo's hospital as fast as her feet would carry her without breaking into an all-out run. Behind her, George struggled to keep pace and begged her to slow down. She was barely aware of the fact that he had followed her to the hospital, let alone heard his urgings. Her mind was focused on only one thing: Michael.

"I can't _believe_ the bastard turned up," she yelled, more to herself than to the various medi-wizards and witches that turned around in surprise. Half conscious that George was indeed behind her, she now addressed him. "I mean really, what was he _thinking_? 'Oh, I'll just cut out for about three months, thanks. Then I'll magically _reappear_ after the entire war's over'! _Idiot_!"

She turned the corner sharply, flying past a man who has somehow engorged his nose and a little girl who had snakes growing out of her head. George caught up to her and tried to calm her down.

"Come on, Kay, I seriously doubt that that was Michael's intention."

"Sure it was!" she exploded. "He probably thought it'd be _funny_! Oh, a right hilarious joke, Michael, just leave your family panicking beyond help and then injure yourself for good measure so we have to find you in the effing _hospital_! Merlin! We wouldn't have had to worry about this if he had just _died _like a normal person!"

She suddenly stopped, whirled around, and grabbed George by the collar.

"You don't think he's_ dead_, do you?" she yelled, practically in hysterics.

"Katie," George said quietly, taking her hands and lowering them off of himself, "Try to calm down."

"How can I calm down?" she hissed, though quietly now. "My brother might be dead!"

She released him and continued to walk quickly through the hospital's halls. "What if he is? What if he's not? They would have said something if he was, wouldn't they?!"

"I don't know, Katie," George said quietly.

Katie's vision was beginning to blur as she reached the corridor where she was told she could find Michael. "I don't want my brother to die, George," she cried weakly.

"Neither did I." It was a whisper that might not have been meant to come out at all, but Katie heard it and turned around, looking at George with a fallen face.

"Oh, George," she said regretfully. "I didn't mean—"

"I know, I know," he cut her off, waving a hand. "I'm sorry. Listen, Kay. Whatever happens…well. I'm here."

He shrugged awkwardly, placing his hands inside his pockets. Katie squeezed him tight and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, George," she said, leaving him in the waiting room and rushing down the final corridor.

Room 312 stood before her ominously, nothing but an eerie blue light peeking out from between the floor and the bottom of the door. Katie did not hear Michael's voice, but she didn't hear her mother weeping either. So, with a firm resolve not to lose it completely, Katie took a deep breath and turned the handle.

Her mother and Aunt Elizabeth immediately looked up as Katie entered the room, faces worried and tired. Also crowded around the bed was Alicia and two healers Katie didn't recognize. Alicia looked at her gravely and stepped away from the bedside, revealing her brother's face.

"_Michael_," she breathed, rushing over to his side. She gripped the side of the bed railing and stared down into the face of her older brother. His eyes were closed and an ugly gash marred the right side of his face. His mop of brown hair had grown wilder and upon brushing it back, Katie discovered that he had somehow lost an eyebrow. She clasped her hand around his large one and looked up expectantly.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, searching the faces of her friend and family.

"He's in a coma," one of the healers Katie didn't know answered, when no one else would. "Hit by several stunning spells, we think. He's been out for three months."

"_What_?" Katie blurted incredulously. "How—"

"He was found in the woods near Albania," the other healer said quietly.

"Well is he going to make a full recovery?" She couldn't understand the blank looks on her family's faces or the failure of Alicia to provide any kind of detail.

The first healer hesitated. "We are unsure at this time," he said at last.

"What the hell does that mean?" Katie splurted. "Alicia, what's going on?" 

She looked at her friend in the eyes. Alicia tried to look away, but Katie grabbed her wrists and forced her friend's brown eyes to meet her own. Alicia swallowed and then said very articulately, "Michael's in a coma. He has been for almost three months, it seems like. We won't know the extent of the damage until he wakes up."

"Which will be when?!"

"We don't know, Katie…"

"But he will, won't he?"

"Katie, we _don't know_."

The second healer started uncomfortably. "We'll leave you with him," he said with decision. "Talk to him, it might help." And the three healers exited the small room, Alicia looking back only once to give her friend what she must have thought was an encouraging look.

"Mother!" Katie cried as soon as the door shut. "Mum, why are you not freaking out like I am?! Michael is in a _coma_!"

Andromeda sighed and sunk down in a nearby chair. "What took you so long to get here, love?" she asked finally.

"What?" Katie looked, confused, between her mother and her aunt. "I came as soon as I got the owl."

"Did Morgan get lost finding your flat?" Elizabeth asked, frowning. "I thought he had been there before."

"_Oh_." Realization dawned on Katie. "I was at the shop. With George. It must have taken Morgan a while to figure out where I was. How long have you been here?"

"Around three hours," her mother said quietly. She stroked Michael's hair lovingly, staring at his vacant face.

"Oh, _Mum_," Katie said sadly. She sat beside her mother and took her hand. "Hey, guess what?" she said suddenly. "You were right. Michael _was_ alive." She tried to smile, was afraid that it was only an echo of one.

Andromeda did a better job of putting on a false smile. "I think we were both right," she said sadly, looking at her son. "I can't understand how Molly does it. If this hurts the way that it does right now, I simply can't imagine what she must feel." Tears sprang to her eyes and she squeezed Michael's hand, looking intently into his face.

"Please, baby," she pleaded. "Please come back."

Taken aback, Katie stumbled backward into her Aunt Elizabeth. She began to murmur an absent-minded apology, but her aunt grabbed her arm and dragged her into a corner. Katie looked at her, confused.

"I need to get your mother out of here," Elizabeth hissed in a low voice. "It's not good for her to be here for as long as she has, she's worrying herself into a fit."

Katie only nodded, glancing over at her weeping mother.

"I need to get her home, but she won't leave Michael by himself," the older woman continued. "Do you think you could—"

"I'll stay with him," Katie affirmed quickly, though the prospect of this was already causing a lump to form in her throat.

"_Thank_ _you_," Elizabeth breathed and took hold of her sister's hand.

"Andromeda," she said gently. "Andromeda, let's go home. You need to rest."

"I c-can't rest until he w-wakes up," Andromeda sobbed, still clinging to her son's hand as Elizabeth rather forcefully stood her up.

"But we don't know when that is," the younger of the sisters replied gently. "Katie is going to stay here, and I'm sure that the staff will alert us as soon as Michael regains consciousness."

"That's right, Mum, I'm staying," Katie reaffirmed firmly. "You should get some sleep." Mentally as well as physically exhausted, Katie felt that her mother ought to be leaping at the chance to go home.

It took a while longer to convince her, but soon Andromeda Bell and her sister had apparated home. Left alone with her brother, Katie sighed and sat down at his bedside. She scooted the chair up close to Michael's head and looked down into his face. Katie resembled her father exactly, with his dark chocolate brown hair and celery green eyes. The only thing she had inherited from her mother was her height and the small sprinkling of light sun made freckles that dotted her nose. Michael, however, looked like neither of their parents unless you put them together. His hair was light brown, probably a mixture of the dark and the blonde, and curled slightly at the edges. His freckles were more obvious than Katie's, and were present year round. He was tall and built, years of quidditch toning his otherwise slender body. If his eyes were open, they would have been the warm chocolate brown of his mother's. Katie was well aware that Michael had been somewhat of a heartbreaker at Hogwarts, and it pained her to see him this way now.

"Hey you," she muttered quietly. She wasn't sure why she was doing it, but somehow talking made her feel better.

"Haven't seen you in a while. And Godric, d'you look terrible…wow. Well, you know, more so than usual. That's a joke…erm…well, sorry for thinking you were dead. Mum said I was being an awful sister and that you would have never given up on me. Is that true? It probably is…you were always a git, but you looked out for me. Thanks for that. Listen, Michael, I really need to you to come back right now…Can you do that for me? And for Mum…I dunno what's going to happen to her if you…well. You know."

Katie swallowed and took hold of her brother's unmoving hand. She traced the large bone structure with her thumb and tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry I forgot about you," she choked out. "You know that would have never happened under any other circumstance, and I'm really not trying to make excuses, but everything's been so _hard_ lately. After you disappeared, they took Dad away, and then Uncle Gareth was killed. Then there was the final battle, and…and Fred…oh Godric, Michael, I can't stand to talk about that right now. But you know I never _really_ stopped thinking about you, it was just that death started becoming so natural and you were gone for so _long_…Oh, Michael, I'm so, _so_ sorry…"

The petite girl began to sob, and gently climbed over the small bed railing. She laid her head on her brother's chest and wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, Michael, _please_ come back. You've got to…You've just _got _to…"

It was now approximately two in the morning. Physically exhausted and emotionally drained, Katie wept over her brother's body for about three minutes before falling asleep entirely.

"_Come on, Michael, let me play!" whined the messy haired seven-year-old. She was clutching her toy broom and pouting at her brother's heels._

"_No way," the older boy retorted, flying a little higher so that his sister couldn't reach his ankles to pull at them. "Why can't you go play with your dolls or something? Charlie and I don't want you."_

"_You cut off all of their hair!" Katie shouted vindictively. "And I'm just as good as you!"_

"_No, you're not!"_

"_Look, Katie," Charlie Weasley said, a little more gently. "Why don't you go play with Fred and George? My mum brought them to see you."_

"_They keep throwing things in my hair, and Fred put a spider on my knee!"_

"_Ooh, he probably _likes you_!" Michael teased obnoxiously, flicking back the light brown hair that was falling into his eyes._

"_Oh, gross, he does not!" Katie yelled at her brother. "Now let me play!"_

"_Katie's got a boyfriend, Katie's got a boyfriend! Katie's got a boyfriend, Katie's got a—LOOK OUT!"_

_The tall boy dove and tackled his sister to the ground, just as Charlie shouted and a stray bludger whipped over their heads._

"_Charlie! How did that thing get out?!" Michael yelled, glaring at his friend._

"_Strap must have broke!" the red head said breathlessly as he flew over to chase it. Charlie seized the bludger and was wrestling it back into the box when Michael turned to look back at his sister, who was wide-eyed and shaking, still on the ground._

"_Are you okay, Katie?" he asked earnestly, pushing aside her dark hair. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"_

_Shaken, Katie took his outstretched hand and regained her composure. "Of course not, you bloody git," she said self-importantly. "_Now_ will you let me play with you?"_

_Michael grinned and rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright. You're annoying sometimes, sis. You know that?"_

_XxX_

"_Bell, Kathryn!" McGonagall's voice was clear and crisp. Katie took a deep breath and tightened her long, swinging ponytail._

"_You'll be fine, Kay," George urged from behind her. _

"_Absolutely," Fred echoed. "Gryffindor material if I've ever seen it. Now go!"_

_Fred gave her a small push on her bottom and the twins laughed behind her as Katie stumbled out of the gaggle of first years._

"_Damn last name," Katie muttered to herself as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat over her head. It slid down to the middle of her head, stopped only by her nose. "Because of it, I'm lucky number one to look like a fool. Why couldn't Dad have been Nicholas Zell? Much more sense."_

_Katie almost jumped off the stool as a small voice in her head answered back to her, "Hmm…a swearing first year. Interesting."_

"_You'd swear too if you grew up around my brother," Katie answered, frowning slightly. This wasn't so bad. Michael had told her she had to try on magic underpants and dance in front of the school. Bloody git._

"_Bell, is it?" the Sorting Hat mused. "Yes, I remember your brother. Kind of an obnoxious type."_

"_You've got that right," Katie scoffed._

"_Quite the ego he had. Absolutely convinced he was a Gryffindor. I almost sorted him into Hufflepuff just to give him a lesson or two in humility."_

"_You should have," Katie said fervently. "Then maybe he would have been too concerned about himself to bother me all of my life."_

"_I'm sure you didn't put up with it, though."_

"_Are you kidding me? Absolutely not! Just this morning on the train, he tried to tell Fred Weasley I had a crush on him and I walloped him over the head with my broomstick. Let's see him try that again…"_

"_Good for you," complimented the Sorting Hat. "Quite brave of you, actually."_

"_Oh, har har," Katie said sarcastically. "Are you trying to get me to say that I belong in Gryffindor because I'm brave and then put me in Hufflepuff because you couldn't do it to Michael? Well, sorry, but I'm not giving in. I want in Gryffindor, but I'm certainly not saying I belong there."_

"_Why? You don't think you do?"_

"_Hey, pal, isn't that your job?"_

"_I just would like to know what you think."_

"_Listen, you're taking forever to make this decision. And frankly, it's kind of embarrassing sitting up here in front of everyone and talking to myself. If it will hurry you up, though, I'll say what I think. Here's what I think: I think that I do belong in Gryffindor, and I actually really want in there because that's where my mum and dad were, and it's probably where the Weasley twins are going to end up—they're my best friends—and, well, it might be easier to—you know—get closer to Fred if we're in the same house. Merlin, I can't believe I'm telling you my crush…"_

"_Quite alright, actually. I've been looking forward to seeing a Bell and a Weasley unite for quite some time now."_

"_You have? Weird. But I guess when you're a hat, other peoples' love lives probably are the most interesting thing to you…"_

"_Please stop that, or I shall let this Fred know what you've been telling me here—"_

"_Merlin, don't! Godric, pal. Okay, okay. So I want Gryffindor. Are you happy? Except I really don't want to be in there with Michael because he's a total git, and—"_

"_May I tell you something?"_

"_Oh, if you have to."_

"_When I was sorting your brother, one thing was absolutely clear: he had a sister whom he cared about very much."_

"_Good joke."_

"_I never joke. I'm a hat. And who am I to interrupt sibling ties? Therefore—"_

"_GRYFFINDOR!"_

_The hat yelled the last word to the entire school and Katie gladly relinquished herself of it. She flounced over lightly to the Gryffindor table where Michael was cat-calling at her and settled herself down next to him and Charlie Weasley._

"_Oh, what d'you have to sit here for, Katie?" Michael complained, but Katie just grinned and gave her brother a bear hug._

_XxX_

_Swirls of various images and colors finally found Katie once more in her brother's capable arms. Snow was falling outside the windows of the Bell household and a letter was lying on the table, reread for the millionth time over the past week. Katie was crying due to its contents._

"_How can he just dump me like this?" she wailed. "Right before Christmas!?"_

"_I thought you said you were fighting," Michael gently reminded her. He patted her hair awkwardly and looked as though he would very much like to pummel Fred Weasley, simply for putting him in this position._

"_We were!" Katie cried. "But that's no excuse! And for Angelina, too! She's supposed to be my best friend! How could they do this to me?!"_

"_It's just one night, Katie-kins," her brother said, lifting her chin. "Buck up."_

"_That's what George said," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "And I know Fred and I have been fighting for ages, and I know he only asked her to the _ball_, but still! We could have made up for the ball! I don't want to go, Michael, I just don't. I want to stay here with you and Mum and Dad."_

"_Oh, grow up, Katie. George is a good bloke. You'll have fun with him."_

"_I bloody well know George is a good bloke! He's my best mate, idiot. And he proved it by asking me to the ball when the son-of-a-bitch Fred _dumped_ me through a _letter_. But how am I going to enjoy myself when I'm watching the two of them dance, huh? Fred and Ange will be obnoxious together and Lee will be pouting because of it and _I_ will be pouting because of it, and George and Alicia will be putting up with both of us. Al and George should've gone together and left Lee and I to rot at home. That's all I want to do anyway."_

"_You've gone unhinged, old girl," Michael said bracingly. "This is what, the sixth time you've broken up in one year?"_

"_What's your point?" she spat poisonously. _

"_Well, you've survived the other five times haven't you?"_

"_What's it look like, block head?"_

"_No need for name calling. Just…perk up, okay, Katie? Put on that dress—you look gorgeous—get back to Hogwarts, and go have the time of your life with Georgie-o, alright? No more tears. Things will work themselves out in the end."_

"_You think so?"_

"_I know so. Fred may be a git, but he's _your_ git. Anyone can see that."_

"_I really do love him, Michael," Katie whispered, eyes welling up again. Michael gripped her in a tight hug once more. She breathed in the familiar scent of her brother and threw her fingers through his thick, curly hair._

"_I know, Kates. I know."_

_XxX_

_When Katie looked up again, she was no longer in Michael's arms, but in Fred's. The wavy light brown hair between her fingers had turned to thick, straight red. Fred peered down his long, freckled nose concernedly at her, his brown eyes shining intently._

"_How could he leave me, Fred?" Katie choked out. "How could the bastard leave me? Right now? Right in the middle of the war?"_

"_He'll turn up, Katesy," Fred said fervently in a rare moment of seriousness. "There's no way anybody could take old Michael out."_

"_Well I certainly hope so, Fred, because I dunno what I'd do if anything happened to him. He's always been there for me, y'know? Even if he was being a bleeding idiot most of the time."_

_Fred laughed and squeezed his girlfriend tightly. "Don't worry, wee one," he said. "Everything's going to work out. Seriously. I can feel it."_

_Katie squeezed back just as hard. "I just hope it's sooner rather than later," she breathed. "When the war broke out I was just as scared as the next person, but his being there made it seem less terrifying somehow. Now he's gone and I have no one."_

"_Hey," Fred said sternly. "Don't you say that. You've got me. And I'll always be here for you."_

"_You promise that?"_

"_I absolutely promise it. This war's made me realize a lot of things, Katesy. When I thought George was—was dead, it kind of shook me. No more messing around, no more breaking up. I'm here forever from now on, Kates. You and me."_

"_Thanks, Fred," she said breathlessly, tightening her grip. "You just better not leave me like Michael did."_

"_I'll never leave you, Katesy. And neither will Michael. He's just…not here at the moment. But until he is, I will be. I can promise you that."_

_XxX_

**Hi, friends. Quick survey. I really need to know how many of you actually read this, enjoy it, & want me to continue. The last few chapters I've only been getting a handful of reviews from the same people (whom I totally love by the way! You guys rock!) And I REALLY, REALLY need more!!! Just send me a couple of words to let me know that you're reading this & I'll continue. If not…I dunno what I'll do yet. Maybe drop it for a while. I dunno.**


	11. Unexpected Visitor

**A/N: Oh my goodness, you guys. I feel SO AWFUL for complaining last chapter!! You're seriously amazing, all of you…& there's no way I will even ****think**** of dropping this story again. KateXyou, you're totally awesome—I can't believe you joined FF just to review. You're making me feel guilty! And A. Foy & Aurelia…um, you pretty much scared me straight. Everyone else, you're lovely. This chapter is dedicated to ALL OF YOU. And please forgive me for being so selfish. Gah. Feel SO guilty. **

**XXX**

Katie wasn't sure which woke her up first: the tears in her eyes, or the small ray of sunlight which had found its way through the blinds in the window and fallen across her face. She scrunched her nose and shielded her eyes, trying to remember why she had been crying. On second thought, however, she decided that it was probably best she didn't remember the dream she had been having if it had caused her to wake up crying. She turned over to stare at her brother whose hospital bed she had been sharing.

"Hey you," she murmured, brushing his shaggy hair off of his closed eyelids. "Morning. I know you'd kill me if you knew I'd crawled into bed with you, but you could hardly expect me to stay up all night, and you'll never know that I didn't; that's one of the perks of your being in a coma, isn't it? Just kidding…"

Katie stretched in the small confined space and then carefully crawled back out, resituating herself on the closest chair to Michael's bed.

"Sorry for joking about you being in a coma," she apologized with a half-smile, staring at her hands. "You apparently didn't find it very funny because you didn't laugh."

"That's because you can't laugh while you're in a coma, drongo…"

The gravelly voice caused Katie's head to jerk upwards. Her brother was shifting uncomfortably, slowly blinking his eyes open. Shocked, Katie gripped the metal bar of the hospital bed and stared down at her brother. He looked back at her equally bewildered and blinked his chocolate brown eyes several times. Katie's jaw dropped.

"Michael!" she cried breathlessly. "You're awake!"

He scratched his head and looked around. "I am?" he asked, confused. His eyes settled on his sister. "You're a mess, Kates. You look like you did after the Weird Sisters concert we went to on your birthday. Have I been time traveling again?"

Katie cocked an eyebrow at her brother, but then suddenly became aware of her appearance. Her hair was disheveled and her eye makeup was smudged across her face, probably a mixture of the tears she'd awoken to, sleeping in an uncomfortable position and her exploit in the rain with George the previous night. She was also wearing her Weird Sisters concert tee, which Michael had indeed bought for her after the concert on her birthday two years ago. She collected herself and urged her brother into lying back down.

"Michael," she said as firmly as she could muster while arranging his pillows. "I want you to take a couple of breaths and tell me what you think you're doing here."

"Am I not supposed to be here?" he asked, bewildered. "Kates, where the hell are we? I don't recognize this place…it looks like a hospital. Am I sick??"

Katie pursed her lips, unsure of how to break the news to her brother that he had more or less been an invalid for the past quarter of a year. She took a deep breath and tried the best approach she could think of.

"Hey, Michael…um…d'you remember the last place you were before this?"

Michael scrunched his face up in thought, and squinted his left eye. This looked remarkably funny due to his current lack of a left eyebrow. Realization apparently dawned on him, because his eyes grew suddenly wide and his jaw dropped.

"Ohhhhh, _shit_! Shit, Katie, I'm supposed to be on a mission for the Order! I was supposed to meet Charlie in Albania! And then there were all these bloody Death Eaters and…Where _is_ Charlie?! Is he here? Is he alright!? Come on Kates, we've got to go, I promised Lupin I'd have this done ages ago…what's the date anyway?"

"Michael, _lie back down_," Katie urged, once again forcing her brother back into his bed. "And it's Saturday. Saturday, the 30th of August."

She bit her lip as he looked at her in awe. "You're joking…right?"

Katie frowned, and shook her head. "Michael, the war's over…" she said quietly. "You've been in some sort of coma for the past three months."

Now Michael did lie back down. He exhaled slowly and stared up at the ceiling.

"And you're completely serious?" he asked quietly.

Katie took his hand. "It's going to be okay," she said reassuringly. "Everything's going to work out just fine. And Mum's going to be so glad you're awake! Why don't we call a nurse right now…"

"Wait," he said, taking her hand to prevent her from pressing the buzzer. "You've gotta fill me in first…what…what happened? I mean—did we _win_, or…?"

Katie could see in his eyes that he knew Voldemort had been defeated, but was asking the question in a round-a-bout way so that he could get a death list. She sighed sadly and gazed at her left hand, which Michael was desperately clasping.

"Oh, sorry," he muttered, noticing her gaze. He was about to drop it when his eyes caught sight of silver band on her fourth finger.

"Godric's Ghost!" he cried excitedly, grasping her hand and grinning madly, examining the simple silver ring. "My baby sister's engaged! Fred, that bloody devil! When did he—"

Michael stopped suddenly at the sight of his sister's face. His smile faded as tears sprung up in Katie's eyes and her face crumpled as the memory of her dream suddenly came flooding back to her.

"Oh, Katie…" Michael said softly. "Oh, Katie, I'm so sorry, I didn't know. Fred—he's…he's…?"

Katie could only nod as she began to sob into her hands. Michael immediately sat up and grabbed his sister firmly by the shoulders and pulled her to him. She once again easily climbed over the metal railing and curled into a ball, her head on Michael's chest.

"In the final Battle at Hogwarts," she barely made out. "He—Death Eaters—this wall—_still smiling_…"

Michael gripped his sister firmly, holding her to him as tightly as he possibly could, though not understanding a word she was saying. Katie seemed to melt inside of him; she hadn't realized just how much she had missed her brother until she felt his strong arms around her, trying his best to protect her from everything that was wrong in the world.

"He promised…" she sobbed weakly. "He promised he'd always be there for me, and he's _not_, he's _gone_…"

"I'm here, Kates," Michael said, trying to be helpful while understanding relatively nothing. "You've always got me."

Katie shook her head hopelessly. "I was really happy," she choked out.

"I know. I know."

She clung to him until she ran out of tears, lying limply like a rag doll.

"I'm so glad you're back…" she whispered. "I didn't know what I was going to do if you…well…"

Michael appeared to want to make a joke to lighten the mood, but he restrained himself. "I know," he said. "I'm glad I'm here, too. Contrary to popular belief, I love you, little sis."

He gave her an encouraging smile and a kiss on the forehead. Katie seemed to take heart in this for some reason, even though Michael did not know the details of the drastic changes her life had taken since his disappearance.

"So…" he said awkwardly. Katie shook herself out of her mood, and embarrassedly removed herself from his bed for the second time that morning. "Er…how's Mum?"

"She's fine," Katie answered, still trying to regain her composure. She distractedly took a spare elastic from around her wrist and used it to tie up her messy hair. "Worried sick about you, of course." 

"And Dad?"

"Oh, Michael! I forgot you didn't know! Dad's in Azkaban…"

"What?! Working, I hope…"

"No, he's…he's imprisoned there."

"Why?! Katie, what the—"

Katie held up her hand. "I know, Michael, I know…after you disappeared, things got crazy. The Ministry wasn't safe; people were turning each other in right and left. Someone in Dad's office under the Imperius Curse got wind of Dad's involvement with the Order and turned him in."

"But I thought you said the war was over! Where is he now?"

His sister sighed. "Exactly the point I've been trying to make in the _Daily Prophet_," she said. "The Ministry is doing a rather awful job of cleaning up things. I mean, Kingsley's great, obviously, couldn't have suggested better, but there's just _so much_ to be done, you know? And they're sort of focusing on restoring the Muggle-Borns to their families and homes and all that. Which is fair, I suppose, since they've been in need of help longer, but _still_. It's getting ridiculous."

"Well, hell, let's bust him out," Michael said angrily. "C'mon, let's go…."

Katie rolled her eyes. "You can't just do that," she said. "Look, things here have kind of been…well. I don't know what the word you'd use is. But Kingsley's promised Mum that everything will be faster if we just wait. I _hate_ waiting, but I trust Kingsley."

"Shacklebolt's the new minister then?"

"Yeah."

"And he told Mum that? How is she holding up?"

"Fairly well, given the circumstances. It really helps that Aunt Elizabeth's there with her and that they've opened an herbs shop in Diagon Alley. Keeps her busy, you know. Things to do, and it's things she enjoys, so…yeah."

"Wait. Aunt Elizabeth's living with you? What about Uncle Gareth?"

Katie frowned.

"Him too?" Michael asked solemnly. His sister nodded, and his eyes grew shiny. "Who else?" he finally said quietly.

Katie's own eyes grew misty as she recounted the names of the fallen. "Uncle Gareth, Lupin, Tonks—his wife--, her dad Ted, Professor Snape (turned out to be good, by the way. Well. Sort of.), oh, and Voldemort, obviously. And…and Fred…"

Her brother put his hand firmly on her shoulder before she could break down again. "All of them?" he asked, quiet tears spilling out over his cheeks.

"Yeah," was all that Katie could seem to say.

They sat in silence for a while, undisturbed, until Katie suddenly realized that no one had been alerted of Michael's awakening. She jumped up and pressed the buzzer hard.

"Merlin, Michael, we've not told anyone you're up! Mum will kill me! Quick, let me get someone…"

Katie paced the floor anxiously. Alicia arrived seconds later, running in.

"Katie, what is it!? Merlin, he's awake!" She gasped when she saw Michael, throwing her hand over her mouth. "Oh…oh…okay! Um…here, take this, and—and I'll go get the head healer!"

She dug in her healer's robes to find an obscure looking herb and practically shoved it in Michael's hands before dashing out of the room once more. Katie scratched her head, pondering how it was that her friend kept a level head as a healer when she behaved the way that she did. She turned to Michael who swallowed the herb whole and was staring at the door through which Alicia had just fled.

"Kates!" he said enthusiastically. "My nurse is bloody _gorgeous_. Did you see that blonde hair?"

Katie stared at her brother in incredulity, and then slapped her palm against her forehead.

"You total drongo," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "That's _Alicia_. You know, my best friend? _She's_ your healer."

Michael's eyes widened. "That knobby-kneed thing that used to come over to our house to play with you? No way…"

"Yes way. That absolutely was her. Now how d'you feel?"

"Surprised! I never remembered her being so fetching…"

Katie stared at him. "Well you'd better not try to flirt with her," she warned.

Michael looked affronted. "Why not?"

"Because you're an ugly git and you've got no left eyebrow."

"_What_??"

Xxx

In little to no time at all, five medi-wizards were swarmed around Michael, running all kinds of tests that Katie didn't recognize in the slightest. One healer was sticking something into her brother's ear while another appeared to be measuring the length of his left pinky toe. Alicia was running around madly, still seemingly unable to gain control of herself.

"Bloody hell, Alicia, what's the matter?" Katie asked, both annoyed and slightly amused. "D'you behave this way with all of your patients?"

"No!" Alicia cried breathlessly, clutching at the hem of her robes. "But I've never had one that I've actually _known_ before! I mean, he's your brother! What if I did something awful and messed things up, and…"

"Al, you've treated Grandpa."

"Well yes, but he's going to be just fine—"

"And Michael's not!?"

"Well _now_ he is, but I still dunno what to do!"

The Head Healer interrupted them. "Spinnet, hand me that scalpel?"

"Yes, sir!" Alicia answered, almost at attention. "Here, sir!" She handed the device to him and turned back to Katie.

"I've only treated minor things before!" she continued. "Like Oliver's scrapes and recovering patients like your grandpa…I've just started, I don't know what to do with Michael!"

Katie mused over the gaggle of Healers that were swarmed around her brother, pondering that Alicia seemed to be the one who was the _least_ in charge of Michael, but this fact seemed to have escaped the scatter-brained blonde girl.

"Al," Katie said authoritatively. "Why don't you go owl my mum and tell her Michael's woken up? That should have been done ages ago, and I'm sure you can handle that, right?"

"Absolutely!" Alicia said, seemingly relieved that she had something to do that she could handle. She once again dashed out the door, leaving Katie behind.

Katie turned around to observe her brother. Michael was looking around at the medi-wizards confusedly. She felt a pang of sympathy for him; he'd just woken up, been told that his uncle and friends had died, and had to comfort his sister over something he'd barely understood. Now he was being poked and prodded over injuries that he wasn't exactly sure how he had sustained. Katie frowned slightly at this and pushed her way in between two particularly tall Healers and took his hand. He smiled at this gratefully.

It hadn't been three minutes together since Alicia had left that Andromeda Bell and Elizabeth Garibaldi came bursting through the door. Alicia trailed at their heels, carrying visitor's badges and trying to force them around their necks. Perhaps it was all the stress of the past twenty-four hours, but Katie felt the unfamiliar urge to burst out in laughter. She was spared actually executing this odd reaction when her mother shoved her aside and grasped her son's hand.

"Michael Galacticus Bell!" Andromeda shouted. "Are you alright?! Are you breathing?! How are you feeling??"

"Mum," Michael complained, taking his hand away and rubbing it. "Why'd you use my middle name in front of everyone? It's embarrassing…"

"So you _are_ alright!" she cried, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh, _Michael_!" She threw herself across her son's chest, hugging and sobbing into him at the same time, surprising several Healers who backed away immediately.

"I'm _fine_, Mum," he said, pushing his mother away. He was feigning annoyance, but it was clear that he was very happy to see her. A smile was playing at the corners of his lips.

"Hi, Michael," Elizabeth said timidly, gazing down at her nephew.

"Aunt Liz," grinned Michael. "Nice of you to come to my sick bed!"

The three relatives were chattering away when the Head Healer suddenly interrupted them.

"Ma'am," he said to Andromeda pointedly. "Ma'am."

Andromeda looked up, eyes wide. "Yes?"

"Sorry, madam, but only two visitors at a time."

"Oh!" Andromeda cast her eyes about the room, and seemed to notice her daughter for the first time. "Kathryn, you've gotten to be here all night. Why don't you go home now?"

Taken aback by her mother's blatant order for her to leave, Katie opened her mouth to protest, but Alicia clamped on to her arm and dragged her out of the room.

"Alicia, what the--?"

"It's okay," Alicia said, appearing to have gained composure once again. "I've seen this hundreds of times, your mum's in kind of a state right now, she didn't mean anything by it. _Besides_, there's someone in the waiting room to see you!"

Her eyes sparkled with laughter and excitement and Katie quirked a brow. _Who on earth would be waiting to see her_? Nevertheless, she followed her friend down the long whitewashed corridor. It was then, when the adrenaline of seeing her brother began to fade, that Katie realized how very tired she was. She had only slept about four hours total, and before that she had had a long day at work, coupled with going over to George's which had been even more draining. After that, she had been whisked away to St. Mungo's, where she had stayed up most of the night. It seemed surreal that it was only about eight o'clock in the morning on Saturday.

When they entered the small waiting room, Alicia exited to the left. Katie turned, surprised, to see where her friend had gone, but was distracted by the man sitting in a chair directly in front of her. George Weasley was dozing off in one of the many uncomfortable chairs of the waiting room, messy red hair fallen in front of his face. Katie felt a rush of love for her friend as she realized that he had waited up for her all night. She was about to go to him when a voice interrupted her.

"Katie?"

Distracted, Katie turned to find Oliver Wood grinning down at her. Confused, Katie stared back up at him and said bluntly, "What are you doing here?"

Coloring a little, Oliver put his hands into his pockets. "Er—Alicia told me they'd found your brother," he explained awkwardly. "And I figured you'd be tired after staying here all night, so I came to see how you were…"

Gaping, Katie noticed Alicia waving madly and grinning over Oliver's shoulder. She frowned slightly, but looked back at Wood with a curious sort of look on her face.

"Really?" she asked. She found it surprising that Wood could have been so considerate. _Then again, he had been asking her on dates every day for the past two weeks._

"Yeah…"Oliver trailed off. "Look, Kates," he said, gaining composure. "I'm sorry for pressuring you into dating me. It started off as serious, but then sort of evolved into a joke, and well, I'm sorry if it's been hurting you."

Katie shook her head, still confused. "Ol, it's fine…" she said distractedly. "I appreciate your concern for me. Listen, can you hold on a second? I just wanted to check on Geo—"

But George wasn't there. Frustrated, Katie whirled around. "Al, Oli, did you see where George went?" Both of her friends shrugged.

"Was that the red-headed boy who was just here?" interrupted an elderly woman in purple robes who was sitting in one of the chairs. Katie just nodded.

"Oh…well he woke up just a few seconds ago and Apparated somewhere."

"Did he see us?" Katie asked the woman. _Why had George just left_?

"Yes, I think so, dear. But he did look very tired…"

"I've got to go to him," Katie said, turning back around to face Oliver. "He's been waiting up all night for me…"

"Katie, wait!" Oliver said, taking hold of her wrist.

"What is it, Ol?"

He frowned slightly. "I at least want to know how you are…"

Katie suddenly felt sympathy for the tall brown haired Keeper. He _had_ come to see her after all. And she had been giving him the cold shoulder for weeks.

"Come sit for a while at least," he urged. "You've been up all night."

"I am a little tired," she admitted. Alicia grinned and dashed off down the hall, presumably to check up on her other patients. Katie and Oliver sat down on a small couch which was situated next to a coffee table. Several magazines were spread across it, including _Quidditch Weekly,_ the old issue with the story on "Accident Prone Ollie". Wood blushed and covered it with _Teenage Witch,_ which had a cover story on Serena Salmander, the singing veela.

"Little crush on Miss Serena, Oliver?" Katie teased.

Wood rolled his eyes. "Please," he said. "I don't like blondes."

"Alicia will be disappointed to hear that."

Oliver smiled. "How are you, Katie?"

"I'm just fine, Oliver. Just like I said, a bit tired."

"Are you really fine?" he asked. Katie looked up surprised, a little disarmed at the intent with which his brown eyes were boring into her green ones.

"I'm well enough off," she replied.

"You can be honest with me, Kates," he said. "I really do care about you."

Katie fiddled with her hands. "It's been a rough past couple of days," she admitted.

"With your brother?" he asked. "How is he?"

"Michael's fine. The Healers say he should be out within a week with any luck. Just a little shaken up, you know?"

Oliver nodded, laughing a little. "Can't imagine being in a coma for three months would be very easy."

Katie laughed, too. "No," she admitted. "But he seems to be handling it pretty well. Trying to laugh the whole thing off. Very Michael."

"Always liked your brother," Oliver mused. "Excellent seeker, terrific sense of humor. Good bloke."

"Yeah, he is. And I'm sure Kenmare will be thrilled to have him back…"

"Of course. Anything else bothering you, Kates?" he asked sincerely. Katie suddenly felt very open to Oliver's queries. He took her hand, blisters from quidditch having roughened his own. For some reason, Katie did not push it away today.

"I'm just worried about George…" she sighed. "He has so much to deal with right now, getting the shop up and running while still mourning over his brother. He's done _so well_ without Fred, it's amazing. But I'm still scared for him…he called me over to the shop last night because he had a break down trying to throw out some of Fred's old stuff. I—I tried to help him out, but it ended up being him that had to comfort me. I just feel like such a burden on him right now, which is the last thing that he needs…" She sighed again. "I dunno, Ol. He keeps turning to me, but I feel like I'm only making it worse."

Oliver frowned slightly, and caressed her hand with his thumb. "For what it's worth, Kates," he said. "I'm proud of what you're doing for George. And from my point of view, which probably doesn't mean very much, I understand—you're doing wonders for him."

Katie looked down at the pair of hands on the couch. Wood really seemed to mean it.

"And Katie?"

She looked up.

"Any time you need to talk…I'm here, okay? I know there's probably dozens of people you feel more comfortable around, but I'd like to help if I can. You're an amazing friend, Katie Bell. And I don't want to lose that friendship."

Katie smiled at him, her eyes shining. "Thanks, Oli."

His face scrunched into a frown. "And please don't call me Oli."


	12. Fate

**A/N: Hooray! Am updating SO soon, right? Love me for it ) And sorry, no George in this chapter, but he'll definitely be the star of the next one. I'm thinking about writing it from his PoV…your thoughts?**

It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, and Katie Bell was at her flat. Oliver had convinced her to go home and sleep before going after George, which had turned out to be an excellent suggestion. She felt quite reenergized, and had been able to take a shower and change her clothes. She now sported nicer denim jeans and a dark brown wrap-around top which matched her hair. She ran a comb through the short, choppy mess one more time and headed out the door. She Apparated quickly to the outside of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and stared up at the large brick building. A lurid banner, complete with a picture of Lee demonstrating the Headless Hat announced the shop's grand re-opening on Monday. Beneath it, displays of several new products hung: Ron was under the influence of the Hiccuping Humbugs, Harry Potter looked pained and was holding a Knicker Nutroll, and Hermione Granger had even volunteered to demonstrate the effects of a Mucus Mint. Another banner proudly boasted the kick-off which was to take place tomorrow night at seven o'clock. Katie had no doubt in her mind that tomorrow evening would be a success; not only because she knew George and his capacity for brilliance at things of this sort, but because several people had taken it upon themselves to decorate the large hanging banners with words of support.

"We'll definitely be there!", "Long Live WWW!", and "We're rooting for you, Georgie!" filled the blank spaces of the various banners that covered the side of George's shop. Katie felt warm inside looking at them. The amazing thing was that these shouts of support weren't only from George's family and close friends. Sure, the Weasleys', Angelina's, Alicia's, Oliver's, and Harry Potter's handwriting were easily spotted, but so was Ernie MacMillan's, Justin Finch-Fletchley's, LeAnn's, the Patil twins', Neville Longbottom's, Terry Boot's, Michael Corner's, and Cho Chang's. Even Jacquelyn, who had never met George, had taken the time to send words of support. Katie smiled to see that some of their old professors had stopped by to sign the banner: McGonagall, Sprout, Madame Pomfrey, Sinistra, Hagrid…Professor Flitwick left a particularly warm greeting, recommending to anyone who might care to read about the utter brilliance of the portable swamp. Amos Diggory had signed it. Fleur had written something in French. Perhaps the most heart-warming signature was Percy's, a warm but brief promise of brotherhood and support attached to it. Katie had not yet signed one of the banners, unsure of what the best words of well-wishing would be. She pulled out her quill for the thousandth time, pondering yet again what she ought to write. Finally, she opted for brevity, compacting all her support and love into the words "_Any time you need me_." She signed them with her initials. George would know.

She climbed the short steps that led to the door and began to knock. "George?" she called. No answer. She hoped he wasn't still asleep. "George?"

There was still no answering voice. Feeling that the need to thank George for staying at St. Mungo's over night could not wait, she pulled out her spare key to the shop and let herself in. It was quiet inside, but several lamps were lit and the supplies which were needed to take inventory were out. Someone was here.

"George?" she called again. "Ron? Lee? Anyone here?"

Catching sight of the door which led to the back room, Katie strode over to it. It was slightly ajar. Genuinely worried now, Katie gently pushed it open.

"George?"

It wasn't George, however, it was Lee. The dreadlocked twenty-year-old was sitting on the couch with two tall, blonde twins. He was snogging one of them while the other twisted one of his dreadlocks around her finger playfully. Katie gasped, and the glared indignantly, disgusted as Lee unglued his face from the blonde girl and stared at her, shocked.

"Katie!" he said, clearly embarrassed. "What brings you here?"

"Lee Jordan!" she shouted, striding over and grabbing him by the elbow. She practically dragged him out of the back room and into the shop floor, causing the twins to giggle and whisper, "That must be his _girlfriend_."

"Jordan, just what the _hell_ d'you think you're doing back there?!" she exploded as soon as they had gotten far enough to be out of earshot. "I thought you were supposed to be in love with Ange!"

"I am!" protested Lee. He threw his arms out and then let out a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. "But she won't have anything to do with me, and sometimes a bloke needs a little bit of attention!"

"From tarts?!" Katie cried. "Lee, where did you _find _those girls??"

"They're not tarts," he said moodily. "And I found them at Flourish and Blotts. We were out of ink so I was going over to pick up some more so that I could finish inventory, and ran into Jamie and Amy."

Katie quirked an eyebrow. "Jamie and Amy?" she repeated. "Their names rhyme? Oh, come _on_, Lee…"

"It's not hurting anything," he whined. "What are you doing over here anyway? Thought you'd still be at hospital, or at least taking a nap…"

"Mum and Aunt Liz came," she explained. "And I've been taking a nap."

"Ah…" he seemed embarrassed now. "So how's your brother?"

"Michael's fine. Should be out in a week or two."

"Oh, good..."

The silence was uncomfortable. "Did you need something?" Lee asked again, shifting from one foot to the other.

Katie recollected her reason for being there. "Is George around?" she asked. "I wanted to check up on him. He stayed at St. Mungo's all night and I didn't get a chance to speak with him…"

"Nah, his parents took him out for dinner," Lee answered. "Think they wanted to give him an extra bit of encouragement before tomorrow. Seems a bit nervous."

Katie nodded. "Well that's nice…" she trailed off. She knew that George needed to spend more time with his family, but she still felt a little jealous that Molly and Arthur were getting George's last evening before the opening of the store. This was ridiculous, she knew, but Oliver's words that she had been a great support to George were still ringing in her head. _Oh, well. Clearly, the best thing she could do for her friend right now was let him be with family._

"Yeah," Lee answered. "He's sort of been avoiding his mum and dad for a while, I think this will be good for him. Especially after last night. Alicia owled me at Ange's to say that you and George had come in, and that he'd had some kind of breakdown…"

Katie was suddenly angry. "Yes he had _some kind of a breakdown_," she said testily. "Which may not have happened if you'd been acting like the best mate you're supposed to be and stayed with him instead of running off to monitor Ange's dating life! Honestly, Jordan, what the hell were you thinking?! It's not even been a bloody three months yet! How could you just leave him on his own??"

Lee looked taken aback by Katie's sudden outburst. "I didn't leave him alone," he stumbled. "Ron was here. I thought George was going to pop 'round at The Burrow for supper with him!"

"You _just said_ he's been avoiding his mum and dad! How could you think he'd be going back with Ron?!"

"He seemed like he was in a good mood!"

"He seemed like that, or you just _hoped _he was so you could go gallivanting off to Ange's?!"

"Knock it off, Katie, it wasn't anyone's fault what happened! It just _did_!"

"So you're taking absolutely _no_ responsibility for leaving George by himself?! Great, Lee, great. Did you at least _invite_ him to come with you??"

"Well…no…"

"Lee!" Katie shouted, exasperated. She flung herself down on a random pouf that was sitting in the corner of the store. "You're supposed to be his best friend! That means that you sometimes sacrifice what you want to do for the sake of the other. He's really counting on you right now!"

"I _know_," Lee groaned, flopping down next to Katie. He sighed and began to rub his temples. "That's the problem."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Katie, look," Lee said, looking strained. "I know that you've done a lot for George since---"

"Since Fred was killed," Katie finished for him half-heartedly. Finishing this sentence for others had become almost second nature to her, but every time she said it, a bit more of the reality of it ground itself into her and left her solemn.

"Right," he said, wincing a little. "You've probably done more than anyone, outside of his family. And we all really appreciate that, honestly. But—and don't get mad—you haven't been living with him, and it's the living with him that's hard."

Katie's initial impulse was to overreact and start coming down on Lee again, but she checked herself, noticing for the first time the dark circles under her friend's eyes. She softened a little.

"What, Lee?" she asked as gently as she could muster. The old quidditch commentator continued.

"George _is _my best friend, Katie," he said firmly. "You've got to understand that. And I'm gonna be here for him the whole way through, but sometimes it gets so…so _draining_. George's got no clue how to be alone. He's had Fred with him his whole life. He _is _a twin, whether Fred's here or not. And just sometimes…I dunno, Kates, it's like he's trying to replace him with me. I don't think he's doing it consciously," he added in response to Katie's opened mouth. "No, not at all. He definitely doesn't know he's doing it, but…I dunno, he can't go to sleep unless I'm in the room. He waits so we can eat dinner together. He even times it so we brush our teeth together…and he'll break off in the middle of his sentences, and I _know_ he's wanting me to finish them like Fred used to, but I never have a bloody clue what he's going to say. I promise that I care about George, Katie, but I don't want to become his twin. I don't think it's healthy for him. And—and it's hard on me, too. To be around that all of the time. I haven't said much, I know, but I _really_ miss Fred, too. The three of us were best mates at Hogwarts. Being around George without him is hard, not because I liked either of them better, but because they're so much alike. D'you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Lee looked at her pleadingly, almost begging to be told that he wasn't a horrible person for wanting a little break from their friend once in a while. Katie suddenly felt ashamed of herself for not having realized what a toll this must be taking on Lee. She bit her lip and stared at her knees. _Perhaps she was being a bit overly defensive of George._

"Yeah, I understand," she muttered. "I'm sorry, Lee, I'm just…" She trailed off. _What was she_?

"You're just worried about George," he said simply, putting his hand on her back. "We all are. But I think if we take this as a team effort, it might go smoother." He gave her an encouraging smile. "And I promise never to leave him alone to go interrupt Angelina's dates again. That was pretty thick of me."

Katie smiled back, and the friends stood up and embraced. Lee hugged her tightly and she hugged him back.

"And get rid of the rhyming twins before George gets back, will you?" she asked with a crooked smile. "That's the last thing he needs right now."

Lee nodded and saluted her. "Wizard's honor," he said.

She grinned and walked once more out of the shop.

XXX

Katie walked along the streets of a busy Diagon Alley alone. Street vendors were hollering at her to come try their wares while Hogwarts students flooded the streets, preparing to head back to school in a couple of days. Katie observed them interestedly. Most of them probably didn't know or care that they would be going to a school where so many had died just a few short months ago—where Fred had died. She felt relief that she had already graduated and had no need to go back to the castle where her fiancé had been killed. She wondered how Ginny would handle it; if she would avoid the corridor that had witnessed the last few moments of Fred's life, or if she would walk through it, head held high. Knowing the youngest Weasley, it would probably be the latter. Katie had wished several times throughout the past few months to have even half the courage that Ginny seemed to possess. She had never felt less worthy of her Hogwarts House in her life.

As Katie paced the cobblestone streets, she considered and then rejected several times the idea of visiting Angelina and Alicia. She even paused outside their apartment complex. Angelina had Saturdays off, and Alicia would surely be off her shift at St. Mungo's by now. The two friends were probably getting ready to go to Scotland's quidditch game that began at seven. They were playing Puddlemore, which meant Oliver would be playing. He had invited her to come to his game and then out for some drinks afterward, but Katie had scrunched her nose, telling him that it was too much like a date. Wood had redacted immediately and apologized many times. _It had struck her as sort of cute, in a way_. _But no mind. She wasn't exactly sure that she wanted to be around her friends at the moment._

Leaves fell from the overhanging trees, and were crunched under Katie's brown leather shoes. Autumn seemed to be coming rather earlier that year, with September only beginning the next day. She reflected on this, and decided that she didn't mind. This reminded her of a song which her mum used to sing to her when she was small. It was about a young woman named Sarah, who cursed the cold and the snow and hid away in her house every time winter came because that was the season in which her lover had died. At the time, Katie had thought it ridiculous that something as wonderful as the snow could make Sarah want to hide away from the world, but she now felt a connection with the girl from her mother's song. It was on the brightest, sunniest days when the rest of the world seemed alight with joy that Katie hid in her flat or in the office of the _Daily Prophet_ for as long as she possibly could. She used to love the summer; now it filled her with the utmost sorrow.

Katie began to consciously make her way toward St. Mungo's. She thought she could use a chat with Grandpa Artemus right about now. The elderly man's sweet gruffness usually shook her out of whatever sort of melancholy she was in. Upon entering the hospital, she glanced at the in and out chart of the employees and noted that Alicia Spinnet had indeed checked out for the day, and was not due back again until Monday night. Using the elevator to avoid her mother, she pressed the number seven and the cool voice announced her arrival at the floor of recovering patients.

Katie pushed open the door to find her grandfather in the middle of a coughing fit.

"How's my grandson?" he barked out when he had recovered.

"Hi, Grandpa," Katie returned wearily, rolling over a chair and sitting down. "Michael's doing great, the Healers think he should be ready to leave within the next week or so."

"Lucky bastard," Grandpa Artemus coughed. "I've still got another month."

"What?" Katie asked, concerned. The last time she had consulted Alicia, her grandfather was due to be out within the week.

"Yes," the old man said. "Caught this bloody cough, which is slowing down my healing process, or so says your little blonde friend."

"Well are you going to be okay?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He waved a hand. "I'll be fine, I'll be fine. Just another month in this damned bed. So, Kathryn. What brings my pretty young granddaughter in to see me on a Saturday evening when she could be off on a date with a handsome quidditch star?"

Grandpa Artemus coughed again and Katie laughed. "You mean Oliver?" she asked amused, rolling her eyes.

"Oliver Wood, that's the one," he affirmed. "Right fine young man. Would treat you real well, the way that you deserve. Not like that red-haired boy you dated for so long…always fighting."

Katie frowned. "Grandpa, Fred and I were engaged," she said firmly. "I loved him."

"I know, I know," said his gravelly voice. "I was just teasing with you." He smiled toothily at her, but she did not return the gesture.

"I don't think it's funny," she told him.

"Oh, lighten up, old girl," her grandpa said, patting her on the back. "You know I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Katie asked, eyeing him.

"Of course!"

"You swear?"

"Every damn day," the old man said with satisfaction. Katie rolled her eyes.

"Not what I meant," she muttered. "But whatever."

"Oh, Kathryn," Grandpa Artemus said seriously. "I'm sorry for what happened to you. Nobody understands more than I do, except for maybe Lizzie."

Katie nodded and patted his hand. Aunt Elizabeth knew exactly what Katie was going through, perhaps even more so, though she had not cared to share her feelings with anyone other than Andromeda. And Grandpa Artemus…

"I loved Hypatia with all my heart," he said. "I don't know what she ever saw in me…she was a smart, beautiful Ravenclaw with the world at her fingertips and I was a rough, quidditch playing Gryffindor with a smart mouth and not enough owls to trade a galleon for. But she married me when I asked her…and we raised five beautiful daughters together. I always thought that we'd grow old together, but it seemed that Fate had different plans…killed in the First War, trying to teach tolerance for all types of blood. And I never stopped loving her."

"There's no such thing as Fate," Katie said quietly, small drops of tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"Now you stop that crying, Kathryn," her grandfather said sternly. "And don't feel sad for me. Of course there is Fate! Everything happens for a reason, you've just got to be smart enough to figure out what that reason is! You used to know that!"

"I used to be stupid," Katie said solemnly. "Why did Grandma die?"

"Because it was her time," the elderly man returned simply. "Her passing was dignified, and it made me and every one of her daughters stronger. Do you think your mother could be the person she is and lead her broken family on over these past few months if she had never known sorrow before?"

Katie just shook her head. "I don't know anymore, Grandpa…"

"Well then take it from someone who does," he replied. "Your Fred passed on exactly as and exactly when he was supposed to. You'll understand why in time."

Now Katie was firm in the shaking of her head. "No, Grandpa," she said. "No, I can't believe that. And I don't think Aunt Liz does either."

"Of course neither of you do! You're both right in the middle of it! But some day, Kathryn, some day you'll see."

Katie made no response, only stared at her hands in her lap.

"So you really like Oliver, then?" she asked suddenly.

"Aye, that I do," returned Grandpa Artemus. "He's a fine lad, and he cares about you a great deal. He came in to see me this morning under the pretence of checking on my condition, and talked about you the entire time."

"He did?" Katie asked, surprised. Her grandpa grinned.

"Most definitely," he answered. "Now if that boy were to ask you to dinner tomorrow before the re-opening of that shop of your friend's, I'd suggest you say yes."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "And why would Oliver do that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Let's just say someone older and wiser than he lent him the idea," he replied, winking.

Katie rolled her eyes, but grinned as she tossled her grandfather's thinning white hair.

"I'll see you later, Grandpa Artemus…" she said as she walked out the door.

"Fate, Kathryn!" he shouted after her, collapsing into another coughing fit. "Fate!"


	13. Dates & Destinations

**A/N: Well…thought I'd try writing George's PoV seeing as how he is one of the main characters in the story. Or he's supposed to be anyway…SO! Let me know what you think…I've only written from a bloke's PoV once before & it wasn't my most shining moment…if you think I should lay off, please let me know & the rest of the story will be told by Katie only. However, if you do like George's PoV, you should know that most of the story is going to be through Katie's eyes anyway. He'll just come in every few chapters or when I feel like I need him to. So definitely let me know & please read & review this chapter…**

**XXX**

George picked at the steak on his plate listlessly. He was barely aware of his surroundings; he knew that his parents were sitting across from him, watching him nervously, and that he was currently eating dinner in Armando's Diner. The only reason he knew his location was because he remembered Katie's description of it the day after she had gone to lunch here with Wood. He knew that his parents were springing a lot of money to take him here tonight and he felt guilty for not speaking more, but he was very tired having stayed up all night at St. Mungo's, and his relationship with his parents seemed awkward at the best.

"How is your food, dear?" Molly pressed, looking at him kindly.

"S'alright," George said, forcing himself to swallow a bit of the steak. "Thanks a lot," he added, slightly off-hand. Molly looked at him worriedly and exchanged glances with her husband.

Arthur cleared his throat. "How are you feeling, son?" he asked, in what he clearly believed to be a casual sounding voice.

"I'm okay," George answered. "Bit tired."

"I'll bet you were, up all night at the hospital!" Molly cooed. "That was such a nice thing of you to do, dear. Staying with Katie when she was so upset over Michael."

George just shrugged. He figured that if it had been him, he would have wanted Katie to stay…

"How is Michael doing then, George?" his father asked, trying to make conversation.

His son frowned slightly. "They think he's going to be okay…" George trailed off. He wasn't exactly sure how Michael Bell was coping because he hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Katie about it, but he had overheard her telling Oliver Wood that he had woken up from a coma and appeared to be recovering just fine. George wasn't sure what had made him leave that morning; he just had. It was something about the way that Wood looked at Katie that had made George feel out of place. He'd looked at her with real, sincere concern and the ability to help. George couldn't offer that. He would have probably ended up in another of his famous breakdowns; that definitely wasn't something Katie had needed just then. And so, he had Apparated to The Burrow due to a lack of other places to be. His parents had fussed over him just as he had predicted, Percy avoided him as usual, and it was left to Ron and Ginny to treat George with any degree of normalcy. Ron had tried to talk about the shop, but he looked nervous, and Ginny was kind, but busy packing for her final year at Hogwarts. It was in this state of things that George had agreed to let his parents take him out for dinner after having a good, long sleep in his and Fred's old bedroom.

"Oh, that's good to hear," Molly said absent-mindedly. "It will certainly take a load off of Andromeda's mind! She's been so worried about him…"

Molly trailed off, trying to keep from tearing up at the thought of her own son whom he hadn't been able to reclaim. She took hold of George's hand in her weakness, but her son avoided her direct gaze. He had a pretty good idea of what she was looking for, and didn't want to meet her eyes when she did.

It was probably paranoia, George told himself, that made him think that his mother was searching his face for a glimpse of her dead son. On particularly bad days, George could even convince himself that she was looking at him as though desperately hoping to find that Fred had indeed survived and that it was George who had been crushed under the castle wall, and that she along with the rest of the world had simply gotten the twins mixed up for the millionth time. This was ridiculous, he knew, but he couldn't prevent the thoughts from entering his brain.

His father was a different story altogether. Seeming to notice what his wife was doing, Arthur Weasley would often try very pointedly to behave the opposite way. He attempted to show his son that he was very aware of who he was and that he wasn't put off by his appearance by staring at him constantly. This, coupled with his father's use of his name, "George", at the end of every sentence directed at him, unnerved George slightly.

"And good for Katie, too," Arthur put in. "She'll need her older brother right now, don't you think, George?"

George nodded. "Yeah," he muttered. "Yeah, she'll be really glad he's back…er…she _is_ really glad to have him back."

George knew that his parents sensed the dependence with which he relied on Katie, and that they were trying to use this attachment as leverage to make him talk about _something_, but he found that he didn't have much to say. Yes, Katie had grown very important to him over the past couple of months, but he wasn't sure he could explain to his parents _why _that was without making them feel guilty and even more anxious about their behavior toward him. The truth was that George had come to rely on Katie because he felt that she was the only person who could come close to understanding what he had lost along with Fred. Sure, she and his twin brother had shared a different kind of bond than the one George had shared with him, but the bond was there nonetheless. She had some grasp of the feelings that were overwhelming him day and night, and when she looked at him, George felt that she truly _saw _him. Not Fred, but him. Katie, who had more of a right to search his face for his twin's than anyone else, always looked at George to find George. And this in itself was a comfort to him. Ginny was capable of looking at him this way as well, but it was somehow different with Katie. George couldn't put his finger on what that difference was, but it didn't matter. He didn't need to sort out how he felt about Katie. She was there, and that was all he needed to know.

"That's wonderful," Arthur said, but it almost felt hollow. George knew that his father was more concerned about how he was feeling, and wished to cross over to this subject as soon as possible. "So how are you feeling about tomorrow, son? Excited? Nervous? Maybe both?"

George considered this. The project which had so engrossed him over the past month was about to be executed, starting tomorrow.

"Both," he answered decidedly. "I'm glad that the shop's finally going to be open again, but I'm a little nervous about how—well, how people will treat me, I guess."

Arthur nodded his head perceptively while his wife cried, "Oh, Georgie!" and took his hand in both of hers for what felt like the fiftieth time that evening.

"Everyone's going to treat you splendidly, I'm sure," Molly said fervently. "And if they don't, they'll have me to answer to!"

George brushed his mother off carefully. "That's not what I mean, Mum," he said dully, letting his voice trail off.

Arthur considered his son. "You mean how people will treat you as the surviving twin?" he asked delicately.

Surprised at his father's perceptiveness, George looked up. "Exactly," he said. "I mean, everything's going to feel wrong. It's going to be awkward if they ask about Fred, but it's almost worse when they don't. When they avoid all mention of his name and treat me like nothing's happened at all, it's…horrible…"

Arthur Weasley just nodded. He put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I have every confidence in you, George," he said simply. George actually smiled slightly at this.

"Thanks," he said, surprising himself that he seemed to mean it.

"Everything is going to be wonderful, dear," Molly added, smiling through watery eyes. George attempted to return the gesture, though it was slightly strained. He had yet to learn how to deal with his mother's worries without joking about them or simply shrugging them off. This time, he chose to joke.

"Mum, when you're there, everything's wonderful," he said, summoning up all the cheekiness he could muster.

Molly blushed and waved her hand aside. "Oh, George, why do you have to be like that?" she laughed, coloring, but George could tell she was rather pleased. He patted her hand and smiled at her.

"Because, Mother," he returned. "You're top notch. Everyone knows that."

"Well let's see if I can't try to squeeze in baking an extra layered cake tomorrow, shall we?" Molly hummed happily, apparently pleased that she had a role in the reopening of her son's store. She was baking way more food than was necessary, but as it made her happy, George didn't protest. "Did you ask Katie to bring that wonderful boysenberry pie of hers?" she asked, continuing on in the vein of refreshments.

"Er…" George paused, considering how to keep his friend's secret that she was actually a dreadful cook without lying to his mum. "I've told her to take the day off," he said honestly. "She's been up at the shop so much after work helping to set up that I didn't think it was fair to ask her to do anything for the kick-off."

"Oh," said Molly, surprised. "Well, alright then. I suppose that's fair..."

"Ron's more than excited to help," Arthur put out, aiding his son. "And Lee will be there as well, right, son?"

"For most of the day," George answered. "But he's cutting out a bit early, as he's got himself a date for the evening…"

"Oh, really?" Molly asked, slightly put out. "And what gave him the idea to do that?"

George shrugged. "Probably because Angelina Johnson's bringing some bloke she met at a bar. Wants to make it even, you know."

"Are a lot of people bringing _dates_ to your kick off?" pressed Mrs. Weasley.

"I dunno, maybe." George seemed indifferent about it, but Molly apparently felt differently.

"So Ron's bringing Hermione, I expect. And that will leave Ginny with Harry…" George wasn't sure why his mother was musing about this, but it was giving her something to preoccupy herself with and he didn't interrupt her.

"George, why don't you ask someone, darling?"

George looked up in shock. "What?" he asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well it is _your_ night," she said fondly. "And you're going to be wonderful. Why, if everyone else has them, why don't you get a date as well?"

George frowned. "But who would I ask?" he questioned. He was less than enthusiastic about this idea. The thought of having to worry about someone else's happiness seemed a bit overwhelming at the moment. He would let his mother discover that there was no one he could reasonably ask and then the subject would be dropped.

As Molly sat musing, however, Arthur came up with an idea. "Why not ask Katie?" he put out.

Both George and his mother looked at him in surprise.

"Katie?" George repeated.

"Why not?" Arthur asked, looking from his wife to his son. "She'll be having a rather rough time of it as well, I imagine. It would be nice if you two spent the evening together."

"Oh yes," Molly now agreed, seeing where her husband was going. "She's a good friend to you, and you would both be there to support each other if you need it. You could even pop 'round for a nightcap later, if you wanted."

George stared at each of his parents, very puzzled. _Why did they want Katie to be his date? She would be there anyway. They were probably worried about his feelings, seeing as how the rest of his mates would be in couples. It honestly didn't matter to him, however._ He told his parents this.

"It might matter to Katie," Arthur put in. "Come on, George, don't you think it would be nice to know that you were watching out for each other? You might even have fun."

"I dunno…" George said, frowning slightly as he pictured himself asking Katie to be his date to his own kick-off. Even in his head, he appeared stupid. "I feel like every time I try to comfort her, she ends up comforting me. I can't imagine how it'd be on a date…Besides, she and Fred…"

"You two are _just friends,_" Molly pressed. "I don't see why it should matter."

"Yeah…" George agreed, nodding at the table cloth. "Yeah, I'll do it. Just as soon as we're done with dinner, I'll go over. In fact…where _is _the waiter?"

The Weasleys smiled at one another as they watched their son stand up to claim the bill that none of them were yet ready for.

"At least we've got him excited about something," Arthur commented to his wife.

"Yes," agreed Molly. "It should take each of their attention off themselves and onto the other. It will be perfect."

XXX

"Where're you going, George?" Lee asked from his bed in the small flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He was chewing lazily on the end of a Fizzing Whizbee and watching his friend peer uncomfortably into the mirror.

"Going to see Katie," George answered vaguely. He was attempting to tame his unruly long hair without success. He looked at his reflection and fidgeted. He brushed a couple of crumbs off of the patterned button-up he had grabbed from the back of his closet and tugged on a tuft of hair, making sure that it covered the hole where his ear used to be. He was unsure of why he was so conscious of his appearance when he was just going to see Katie, but rather wished that Ginny had been there to help him pick out his clothes.

"Oh yeah," Lee said, suddenly remembering. "She came by to see you this afternoon. Wanted to know how you were. Say…what are you dressed up for?"

"I'm not dressed up," George answered uncomfortably. "I'm wearing jeans and a button-up."

"Yeah, but the jeans don't have holes and your shirt isn't wrinkled," Lee returned. "For you, that's dressed up."

George scowled, running his hand through his hair and flopping down next to his friend. "Well, to be completely honest, I'm about to go ask her if she wants to go with me to the kick-off tomorrow night."

Lee frowned, confused. "Go with you?" he asked. "But she's already coming…she said she would from the beginning."

"No, you daft prat," George growled. "Go _with_ me. Like as in a date?"

"_Ohhh_," Lee said, understanding finally dawning on him. "What made you pick Kates? I thought for sure you'd go for Alicia…especially after all this going on between her and Wood. You sure you want her?"

George shrugged. "Well, yeah," he said. "Look, Lee, it's not a romantic thing, it's just…I trust her, I guess. I trust that she'll be there if I need her tomorrow night, and I want to make sure she's okay. After all those _Daily Prophet_ articles about us, there's bound to be reporters coming, and I just want to make sure…well. That we're there for each other, I guess."

"How sweet," Lee said, cupping his hands and holding them by his face, batting his eyelashes several times. "Looking out for one another!"

"Knock it off, Jordan," growled George. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," Lee replied, abandoning his playfulness. "I think it's a good idea. And just so you know, mate? I'm here, too." He offered his hand, but George just rolled his eyes.

"_Right_, Lee," he said sarcastically. "Like I don't know that you're going to spend most of the evening snogging whatever girl agreed to be your date in front of Angelina."

"Hey!"

XXX

George shifted his weight from one foot to the other for what seemed like the thousandth time, and stared up at Katie's apartment building. He couldn't understand why he felt so apprehensive about what he was about to do. The only thing he could liken it to was how he had felt before asking her to the Yule Ball in their sixth year after Fred had pulled the stunt of asking Angelina to be his date. But the reason he had been nervous then and the reason he was nervous now couldn't _possibly_ be the same. He had gotten over those feelings a long time ago.

George took a deep breath and swore to himself that whatever embarrassing thing he might resort to, he would _not_ fall into Fred's old habit of rehearsing his "lines" beforehand. He had always thought Fred seemed a bit of an idiot for doing this. Besides, Katie had seemed to develop an uncanny ability to tell when Fred had practiced his apologies or declarations of love and wrote them off as insincere because of it. No, whatever he said would be completely off the cuff.

Wanting to delay the moment of his sure awkwardness, George suddenly took a left turn and disappeared into the communal gardens. He found that going for walks relaxed him lately, and hoped that this would work tonight as well. Walking through the trees, bushes, and flowers, George reflected on his childhood. Whenever he and Fred were behaving particularly badly, their father had taken them out of the house to spell his wife and led the twins on various paths through the tiny village of Ottery St. Catchpole. These walks were meant to calm them down and help them mellow out, and they often worked, but not until an entire hour had gone by. George would always whine and beg to know where they were headed. It had tortured him to walk somewhere without a destination. Fred, on the other hand, had never seemed to mind this. George laughed to himself, remembering how his twin brother ran forward with enthusiasm, up for anything that might greet him. It had been one of those seemingly imperceptible differences that only a few who had known them both were able to comprehend.

Feeling a little weak in the knees at this memory, George sat himself down on a small stone wall that held in multiple kinds of flowers. He set his head in his hands and breathed out slowly.

"Is that why the war never seemed to bother you?" he whispered to the brother who had not been alive for almost a quarter of a year. "Because no one knew how it was going to end? You always thought it was so exciting…it made me excited, too. But I think I was right on one point, bro. If we had known the destination, we never would have headed there."

He paused. "Well…you probably would have. I dunno if I would…I dunno much about myself anymore. In a way, that's almost what I miss the most, Fred. I miss you, but I really miss who I was when I was with you. I dunno who _just _George is."

Tears began to blur his vision and he was about to Apparate back home when something caught his eye that reminded him of what he was doing there in the first place. To his right, a sunflower bobbed gently in the breeze. George turned to look at it, remembering that Katie had once remarked off-hand that sunflowers were her favorite, and that they sometimes could cheer her up when nothing else could. He touched one of the petals, letting his fingers run down the stalk. _Katie_. That's who he was here for. Not himself.

Gathering as much courage as he could then muster, George plucked the flower from the earth and severed the end of the stalk off with his wand. He observed it. It was always a nice gesture to bring flowers to a girl, wasn't it? They had at least always seemed to get the most out of Alicia. He snickered at this, remembering his mad-cap school days with the blonde girl. Things were so much easier then.

He shook it off, and turned around to climb the stairs up to Katie's flat on the third floor. "Well…here goes," he said, preparing to knock on the bright red door.

Something caught his eye, however, and he stopped short. George backed up and peered cautiously through the front window. Yes, there _had_ been someone moving in there who was decidedly not Katie Bell. It was Oliver Wood. From his vantage point, George could see Wood preparing something at the counter while Katie flicked through various channels on the WWN, a small frown on her face.

"Oliver, I don't know what you want to listen to." It was muffled, but George could still make it out.

Wood shouted something back, but it was out of earshot. George wasn't sure what made him do it, but he pulled an Extendable Ear out of his jacket and slipped the end underneath Katie's front door.

"What?" Katie asked, now clearly audible.

"I said see if you can find Serena Salmander!" the Scottish brogue returned in a teasing way. Both of them laughed. _Must have been an inside joke._

Katie finally settled on something George didn't recognize and Wood walked over to her small kitchen table, laying down what appeared to be two grilled cheese sandwiches. Katie laughed. "This is your fine cooking?" she asked.

Wood pretended to look hurt. "Don't insult it," he mourned. "It's family recipe."

"Must have taken them years to come up with that one," Katie grinned, rolling her eyes. Her fringe fell in front of her eyes and she brushed it away. George frowned, upset that he seemed to find that attractive.

Katie bit into her sandwich and looked surprised. Then she laughed. "Oliver!" she cried. "This tastes like porridge!"

Wood smirked. "Sorry, Kates. Here, take mine."

He handed her his uneaten sandwich and Katie spit this one out as well. "Earwax?" she said incredulously. "Oh, Ol, you've got a terrible sense of humor…"

He laughed. "Sorry," he said. "Just a bit of fun. Here, let me go get the real ones…"

Wood disappeared into the kitchen and George shifted. He wasn't sure what he was doing out here on the porch, spying on his best friend and old quidditch captain. They were just having dinner; he could easily walk in, ask to see Katie, and get done what he came here for. He twirled the sunflower between his fingers, contemplating this. Something kept him rooted to the spot, however, and upon Wood's return, he knew that asking Katie to be his date tomorrow night wasn't going to happen.

"Katie," Wood said, a little more seriously as he reentered and sat back down at the table.

"Yeah?" she asked thickly through a bit of sandwich which apparently tasted normal.

"I don't want to upset you, or go back on my word to stop asking you out," he began awkwardly. Katie lowered the sandwich and George could feel himself tense up. "But your grandpa said it might be good for me to take you to dinner before George's thing tomorrow night…"

Katie's eyebrows knotted together and Wood hurried on. "I mean, if you don't want to, I completely understand…I wouldn't have even thought to ask if he hadn't brought it up. You know, it doesn't even have to be a date if you don't want it to be. I'll just dress up and pay for your meal, and pick you up here at six."

He grinned playfully at her, and Katie laughed lightly. _Leave_, George thought to himself. _Leave now. You don't want to be here for this. _

"Grandpa Artemus did mention you might be asking…" she said. By the look on her face, George could tell that she was trying to work something out in her mind. He could feel his stomach sinking.

"I know how important it is for you to be there for George," Oliver said, serious now. George frowned at this. _What did Wood think he was? Some kind of invalid?_ "And you will be there…just…as my date. Hopefully. If you agree."

Katie seemed to take a deep breath and then nodded. "Yes, alright then," she said quietly. Wood's grin seemed to stretch from ear to ear. _Miserable git still has both ears_, George thought ridiculously. He turned around; he didn't need to see any more. He yanked his Extendable Ear from underneath the front door and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. He stared at the flower in his hand disgustedly and dropped in front of the door. _He should have known better than to think Katie would prefer being his date over Wood's. So much for that._

Back down at the base of the apartment building, George sunk against the wall and set his head into his hands. He couldn't explain the tears that came flooding out of his eyes, but he thought that maybe he didn't want to. The only thing he wanted was Fred back. That was it. That was all he'd ever wanted from the moment his twin brother had died, and every additional thing that went wrong seemed to rip the wound back open, leaving it as fresh as it had ever been.

XXX

After Oliver left that night, Katie walked out of her door to clear her head. She had just committed to going on a date, the first one since Fred. Almost three months, and she was already dating again? She felt ashamed of herself, though she had to admit that it was mainly for her grandfather's sake that she had agreed. She just hoped George would be okay with it. She sighed and slid against her front door. _Had she done the right thing_? Her hand suddenly met something light and soft. Looking down curiously, she discovered that it was the petal of a sunflower. Katie picked up the flower and gazed at it, amazed. It had to have been Oliver. Katie warmed. The simple gesture of leaving her favorite flower on her porch endeared him to her enormously. _Maybe she had done the right thing after all._

XXX

"George, it's _just_ a _date_," Alicia said sympathetically as the red-head paced the floor of the back room in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "That's all! Just one!"

When George had Apparated back to the shop after his disastrous attempt at asking Katie out, he had found Lee there with Angelina and Alicia. The three of them were exchanging furtive glances and looking at George nervously.

"But it's only been two and a half months!" George blurted ridiculously. "How can she date already?! And how could that git have thought to ask her on one?!"

"_You_ were going to ask her, too, mate," Lee pointed out calmly.

"That's different!" George shouted, causing the girls to stare. "Sorry," he muttered to them. "But honestly, you guys, I was asking as her friend. Wood's been on her tail from the beginning!"

"Fancying someone's not a crime, George," Angelina said gently. "Besides, he really _does_ seem to care about her…"

Alicia and Lee nodded, much to his chagrin.

"But you don't understand," he almost pleaded. "I just…"

He sighed, sinking down into the couch next to Lee. "I just wanted her to go with me," he finished, muttering. He felt ridiculous and wished that his friends wouldn't exchange glances like they were doing. Alicia finally got up from off of the floor and went to sit next to him.

"George," she said kindly, placing her hand on his. "I think it's really sweet that you want to look out for Katie tomorrow night. Really. But you've got to understand…Oliver, well he's…"

"Happy," Angelina finished for her friend, gazing at George anxiously. "Really, George, it's nothing against you, but you're hurting just as badly as Katie is. Worse, actually. And what Katie needs right now is someone who can cheer her up, help her remember how to enjoy life again…you're a great friend to her, but I just think Oliver is what Katie needs right now." She shrugged and Alicia frowned, patting George on the back.

George sighed, rubbing his face with the heels of his hands. "Lee?" he asked finally.

Lee looked uncomfortable. "You know I love ya, mate," he said, shrugging. "But I'm afraid I've got to agree with the girls on this one…"

George nodded. "Yeah, okay…I'll just—er—go with Alicia then, I guess. You don't have a date, right?"

His ex-girlfriend looked heartbroken. "Oh, George," she said sadly. "I'd love to be your date, but I've already agreed to go with someone else…"

"What?" Angelina asked suddenly. "But you never date!"

Alicia scowled. "I do so," she protested. "And he asked _me_, so what d'you say to that?"

George smiled, attempting to joke it off. "He wouldn't be one of your patients from the mental ward, would he?"

Everyone laughed, but Alicia colored.

"What?" Lee cried. "He_ is_?"

"Well he's not from the mental ward obviously…" Alicia said uncomfortably. "But he is one of my patients…"

"Well who is it, then?"

"Michael Bell," Alicia muttered, gazing into an obscure corner of the room.

"Michael Bell?!" Angelina said incredulously. "Katie's brother??"

"Yeah," Alicia said, suddenly defensive. "He heard about George's shop reopening from his mum and got permission to go just the one night from the Head Healer, and then he asked me to go with him." She looked around defiantly. "So there," she added, rather childishly.

Her three friends seemed speechless.

"Well there you go," George said finally. "I guess I'll be the only one going single then."

"Oh knock it off, George," Angelina said, rolling her eyes. "I'll be your date."

George raised an eyebrow. "But I thought you already had a date…"

She shrugged. "I'll tell Barry I've changed my mind," she said easily.

"What?!" Lee shouted incredulously. "You'll drop Barry from the Bar for George, but not for me?"

"I wouldn't drop Marcus Flint for you, Lee," she said disgustedly. "So how about it, George? Want to go with me?"

George shrugged, feeling a tiny bit better. "Why not?"

XXX

George lay in his bed that night without sleeping. He could hear Ron snoring and Lee mumbling incoherent phrases about Angelina, but it was neither of those things that was keeping him awake; it was Katie. Or thinking about her, rather…she was not currently in his flat making noise, although he rather wished she were.

George sighed and turned over in his bed for the thousandth time. He was still annoyed that Wood had beaten him to asking Katie to the kick-off, but he was more annoyed at himself for allowing himself to be annoyed. There was really no reason he ought to feel this way. As her friend, he ought to be happy for Katie, if anything. Maybe not so much happy that she was dating again, but that she would have someone who, according to Angelina and Alicia, she "needed right now".

George frowned at this. Why couldn't Katie need _him?_ The way that he needed her? He felt rather ashamed of this dependence on his dead twin brother's fiancée, but now that it was out in the open to him he couldn't very well ignore it. He didn't want anyone else to disrupt the relationship they had founded; Katie had come so far over the past month. He didn't want Oliver to break her heart and give her even more pain to deal with.

George figured that more than anything, it was fierce protectiveness for Katie which made him feel the way that he did. He wasn't sure why; he had no right to claim her, but the truth was that he now felt like she belonged to him. She was _his_ Katie to look after now that Fred was gone. He wanted to keep her to himself and make sure that no one could hurt her before she got her feet back on the ground, though according to his friends, he was not the right person to do this because of his own situation.

The red-head was well aware that to do so would be unfair to Katie. George would suffocate her, the way he feared he was suffocating Lee. He didn't want her to feel like she had become his pseudo-Fred. He blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall onto his pillowcase. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know how to be his own person. It was Fred's fault. That bastard Fred who had become not only his twin brother, but his best friend; his shadow and his partner-in-crime. That bastard Fred who had run off without looking where he was going, without a destination in mind. That bastard Fred who had gone off and died. The bastard who had left him all on his own, trying to sort out what to do with his half-life.

George could no longer deal with these thoughts. Everything led back to his brother. He got out of bed and ambled over to the bathroom where he extracted a potion for instant sleep from his medicine cabinet. His mother had brewed it for him herself, but had warned him to try not to become too dependent on it. George fell back into his bed, his head spinning into the instant REM cycle.

He had resorted to this potion every night but two since Fred had died.

**XXX**

**I know you hate me right now for being so cruel to poor George, but please try not to…also, I'm afraid that the next few chapters will be like these past few, in that it will take a lot of them to cover a very short span of time. Things will progress normally again soon, however. Promise. Cheers, KJ.**


	14. Weasley Women

**108-109 A.V.C 110 a&b. cahier 92-93 A**

**A/N: Several random items to take note of. First, I must say I'm delighted with how many guesses/wishes about pairings I've received: Alicia/Oliver, Katie/Oliver, Alicia/George, Katie/George, Alicia/Michael…tells me that I haven't completely given away everything yet! I do have some pretty set ideas, & no, I won't tell you what they are, you'll have to read & found out. Heh. Second, updates will probably not be coming as quickly seeing as how I'm entering the wasteland otherwise known as midterms. Third, & of the least importance, in this dream sequence business, I'm kind of imagining Katie's Yule Ball dress along the lines of Kate Winslet's red dress in Titanic during the dinner scene, & her hair basically the same as well. You honestly did not need to know this, I am aware, but I thought I'd clarify anyway. grins I seriously love that dress & I'd do anything to own it, but as this is clearly not a possibility, I've given it to Katie, whom I love deeply. Haha. So! Enough of the ridiculously long author's note, which will probably be continued at the end of the chapter…read & review, s'il vous plait!**

_Katie Bell stood at five feet, five inches with the addition of her three inch heels. Her dress was deep crimson, covered in sheer black veneer. Diamonds and sequins followed the intricate pattern of black velvet ivy and roses that covered the bodice. Rubies hung from her ears and adorned her throat. Her shiny dark brown hair was curled and tied into several tiny knots, which were pulled back into one large knot at the back of her head. A diamond chain wove its way in and out of the knot, and several tendrils of natural curl fell from it at the base of her neck. Her side swept fringe framed her face, long lashes curling prominently above the now dark green eyes. In all her life, Katie had never looked more beautiful. Neither had she felt more livid._

"_Fred Weasley, you are a liar!" she cried, almost in hysterics. She was jamming her finger into the red-head's chest, fighting desperately to keep back the angry tears which were boiling behind her eyes. "I don't think I can stand to hear you say that you love me one more time! Don't you understand how much it's killing me to hear you say something that you don't mean over and over and over again!?"_

_As she shouted, the knot of hair shook and threatened to fall out. This was the closest to tears she had been in front of Fred since the previous year when Dementors had found their way onto the Hogwarts Express. It was also the most fear she had felt since then. Fred did not love her. He simply did not. She had fallen in love alone; to him, she was the stand by plan when no other girl could be found. If he loved her, they would never have fought this much._

_Fred looked equally angry and frustrated with her. "Well then what the bloody hell d'you want to hear, Katie?!" he exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. "I've tried and tried with you! NOTHING is ever good enough! What is it that you want to hear?! Huh?!"_

"_D'you even HAVE to ask?!" she yelled back, the hot tears beginning to brim in her eyes. Several frightened stragglers from the Ball avoided the pair of them and dashed nervously up the main staircase in the entrance hall. George had disappeared long ago when it became clear that his brother had his date's undivided attention. Angelina hung back scared, standing next to Alicia and Lee, her fun for the evening swallowed up in her best friend's anger. "I want to hear a million things! I want to hear why everything's a game to you! I want to hear why you feel that you have to make every aspect of your life, including me, a spectacle! I want to hear why you're addicted to attention and why your image is what's most important in your life! I want to hear why the hell it is that you think that you love me, I want to hear why—if that's true—why you treat me the way that you do, and I want to hear why it is that every damn time we have a disagreement you feel the need to throw it up in my face that you're the effing rock star of the castle and could have any girl at your beck and call!! And above all else, I want to know WHY THE HELL you asked Angelina to the Yule Ball just so that you could prove to me that you're perfectly capable of having a fun time without me! Can you tell me all those things, Fred, can you?!?"_

_Fred's Weasley ears were red with his anger and the violent lime green pinstriped suit he had selected for the occasion had never seemed to clash more with his disposition. In two long strides, he was over to his girlfriend, had her by the shoulders, and was forcing her to look at him. Alicia summoned Lee and Angelina to follow her up the staircase and with one last shocked glance at her date, Angelina disappeared behind her friends. _

"_How many times do I have to tell you that I love you for you to believe it, dammit?!" Fred said angrily. Katie seethed back at him, unflinching and unalterable. Faster than you could say "quidditch", he was kissing her, passionately and desperately._

_But Katie pushed him away hard, wrenching herself out of his grasp. "Stop it!" she cried, backing away from him, hair falling loose. "STOP IT! Not this time! No more kiss and make up! Because I KNOW, Fred, I know the truth! You ARE capable of having fun without me, and you ARE capable of living your life perfectly fine without my being there! You don't love me! You never have!"_

_As the last words rang out across the entrance hall, Fred's eyes opened wide. Anger evaporated into complete sorrow as Katie stared at him desperately and Professor McGonagall burst through the doors._

"_I have never in my life seen such a display!" she shouted angrily, rushing over to the pair of them. Her eyes flashed lividly as she looked from a disheveled Katie to Fred, who was red in the face. "Mr. Weasley!" she shouted. "What is the meaning of this?!"_

"_Ask her," was all he said, staring at Katie almost defiantly._

_McGonagall looked at Katie and then shook her head vigorously. "I think I speak for this entire castle," she huffed. "When I say that I have had enough of the love spats between the two of you to last me a lifetime! I suggest that you either patch things up, or move on! Spare us all the pain of your break ups!"_

"_It's fine, Professor," Katie said, shaking her head numbly. "It's over. It's done. Isn't that right, Fred?"_

_Fred's jaw tightened and he shook his head at her, as though disbelieving. McGonagall ignored this exchange. Katie had never seen her look so furious in her life._

"_Now I really hate to do this on a Christmas Eve, Mr. Weasley," she said venomously, "But I must insist that you take responsibility for your actions! You have destroyed the peace of almost the entire castle! For the next two hours, you will be back in the Great Hall helping to clean up this mess. WITHOUT MAGIC. Miss Bell, I suggest you get to bed and thank your stars that I'm only mad enough to punish one of you this evening. Now go!"_

_She took a firm hold of Fred's arm. He cast one final, furtive glance at Katie and said stonily, "Katie Bell, you are so blind. Why don't you come talk to me when you've figured some things out?" McGonagall gave him a final push and the pair of them disappeared behind the oak doors._

"_I HATE YOU!" Katie shouted, hurling her shoe with great force at the closed doors. "D'you hear me?! I said I hate you! You've ruined EVERYTHING! My Yule Ball, my Christmas, my LIFE! I HATE YOU!" _

_She finally burst into tears and collapsed on the bottom step of the grand staircase. She was bawling in that position when someone carefully stepped down the stairs beside her and dangled a white handkerchief in front of her eyes. Katie looked up tearily to find George smirking, standing above her._

"_Merlin, Kay, I didn't know that I was that bad of a date," he joked casually, as she let out a bark of a laugh and accepted his handkerchief wordlessly._

"_Oh, George," she said. "You know I wasn't talking about you." She blew her nose noisily and then sighed, putting her head down._

_George regarded her curiously for a while and then placed a comforting hand on the small of her back._

"_Kay?" he said finally._

_She looked up at him with half-hope that he would say something to cheer her up. "Yeah?" she asked wearily._

"_You really were the world's worst date."_

_Katie looked at him, stunned, and then began to laugh. "Oh no," she laughed ruefully. "You're right…"_

"_Damn right, I'm right," George said, mock seriously. "First, you spend most of the night looking at my brother. The rest of the night you're talking about him. Your dress clashes with my hair horribly, and then you don't even let me walk you back to your room. I was hoping for the awkward door step scene, but instead I got the awkward teary 'bottom step in the entrance hall' scene." He gave her a half-smile, and Katie laughed again._

"_George," she said wearily. "You really are a complete lunatic."_

_He nodded sadly. "I know."_

_They were silent for a few moments when Katie finally said sadly, "He doesn't love me, George."_

"_Yes he does," George returned, as though this was as simple as stating that Angelina and Lee were destined to be together, or that Professor Trelawney was certifiably insane._

_Katie sighed again. "I just don't know that anymore…" she trailed off. "I used to think it was so obvious and that we were 'meant to be together' and that all this…shit…was just unresolved sexual tension, or whatever else it is that you read about in books. Now I don't know. Now I feel like it's a sign that something isn't working. Like maybe we're just trying to make this work because we're so used to it. And that scares the hell out of me, George. Mostly because I still love him, and I don't know that I can ever stop that."_

_George just looked at her while she unloaded this on him. "I don't know," she continued, uncomfortably. "Maybe I'm crazy…"_

_The other red-head now nodded. "You are crazy," he affirmed. "Maybe that's why you and Fred are so perfect for each other."_

_Katie laughed at this depiction of herself, and George continued on. "Katie," he said. "I don't think you've got to have everything figured out just yet. And I'm no expert on love, or anything, but I have a feeling that this is what happens when you've found your—and I promise that I will personally ensure that you become the first one-armed Chaser if you tell anyone that I used this word—_soul mate_ so early in life."_

_Katie looked at him curiously. "You think?" she asked._

_He shook his head. "I know," he said, half-smiling at her._

_She considered him. "I want to believe that," she said, shaking her head. "But George, why all the fireworks and the loud arguments and even louder make ups? It feels like this is just another part of Fred's dramatic bids for attention rather than a relationship. And if all that I mean to him is just another way to publicize himself…"_

_George interrupted her here. "Absolutely not, Kay," he said solemnly. "Think about it for a second. D'you really believe that, or have you just lost sight of who my brother really is? Come on, Kay, maybe to everyone else he just seems like a loud, immature prankster with a pathetic need for attention—which he is, mind you. But we can't judge him too much, considering that you and I can be a bit like that ourselves—but you and I, more than anyone, know who he really is. The kid who cares about his friends and family above everything else. The friend who sneaked out of his dorm at night to visit you when you were in the Hospital Wing and brought you your favorite sweet. The boy who went ballistic when Snape made you cry in our first year. The man who loves you."_

_George paused. "Have I said enough pathetically shameful romantic things to make you remember why you're dating my twin yet?" He grinned at her, but Katie was already on her feet and bursting through the oak doors that separated her and Fred. George watched her go with a rather sad half-smile on his face, then stood up and collected himself, and returned to bed._

_Meanwhile, Katie was encountering problems with Professor McGonagall._

"_Come on, Professor, I've got to see him!" she shouted as McGonagall stood firmly in between herself and Fred. Fred happened to be in her office taking inventory of Yule Ball decorations and the door was slightly shut._

"_Miss Bell, I do believe that you can wait another hour to see Mr. Weasley!" the professor said, exasperated. "I won't have another of your famous rows tonight!"_

"_I don't WANT to have another row, can't you see that?!" Katie said desperately, struggling against the older woman. "I want to tell him that I love him!"_

"_That's out of the question!" McGonagall shouted back, taking her by the shoulders and holding her out at arm's length. She was surprisingly strong for a woman of her age, and Katie reflected on this with a mix of astonishment and anger._

"_Oh, let me through, will you?" she pleaded. "Could you for once care about helping me get Fred back!? It's Christmas!"_

"_Katie?" At that moment, Fred came through the door, a load of fairy lights in his arms. He looked thoroughly confused to see her there._

"_Fred!" she shouted joyously. In one swift motion, she had shoved a disgruntled McGonagall aside and was running toward him, leaping into his arms and nearly knocking him over, wrapping her legs around him as she kissed him, hard. He was surprised, but soon kissed her back with equal passion, letting the fairy lights fall to the floor._

"_I love you," she said breathlessly when they parted. "I don't know what my deal was tonight, but I'm sorry, and I love you. Always have, always will."_

"_I'm sorry, too," Fred said seriously, letting her down and pulling her close to him. "No more mucking about, that was stupid of me. Especially with Ange. From now on, it's you and me, okay?" He kissed her again, and she grinned against his lips._

"_Or at least for now," she laughed. He raised an eyebrow. _

"_What d'you mean?" he asked curiously._

"_Oh, just that I'm sure that there will be a lot more fights after this one. But I think that's just the product of finding your soul mate at such an early age."_

_Fred laughed. "Now who told you that?"_

_Katie shrugged. "Oh, just this kid I know that happens to resemble a rather devilishly charming red head."_

_Fred grinned and leaned down to kiss her again. "Thank Godric for George," he muttered, his lips meeting hers._

_Katie agreed with this fervently, but it remained inside her brain as her lips were rather busy._

"_Headmaster!" Professor McGonagall shouted, striding over to where Professor Dumbledore was standing with Snape, looking rather subdued. "Headmaster!"_

"_What is the matter, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked gently, turning his attention to the distressed Deputy Headmistress. "It's Christmas."_

"_They—" she panted, pointing an accusing finger at Fred and Katie. "They are SNOGGING in the middle of the Great Hall!"_

_Dumbledore looked up, amused. Fred and Katie paused, separating, and looking at the headmaster rather guiltily. Dumbledore looked back at McGonagall. "Oh for goodness sake, Minerva," he laughed. "It's Christmas. Let them do as they please for the night."_

_Fred and Katie grinned madly as Dumbledore waved them on, and Professor McGonagall looked lost for words, then retired into her office, rubbing her temples vigorously._

"_Bell and Weasley," she muttered, as she passed the pair of them. "Just my luck._

_XXX_

Katie Bell stretched out in the middle of the large bed with a grin on her face. When she opened her eyes, she half-expected to see Fred staring merrily back at her, but she was met with only the cold stare of a blank wall. _Oh, that's right. He's gone now_.

Katie rolled over so that she was facing the white-washed ceiling and stared at the stucco which she so despised. She lay that way for only a while, attempting to brace herself for the day ahead. It was going to be a big one, and she would not make it through by remaining in the weak state she was currently in. She had to be strong; if not for herself, than for a variety of other people, Fred first and foremost.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was—and really, almost always would be—half Fred's shop. She despised Rita Skeeter for asking her whether or not she felt like she had to live for Fred as well as for herself now, but if she was completely honest with herself, she had to admit that that was exactly what she wanted to do. And there was no doubt that if Fred could have, he would have been first in line for tonight's launch party. Hell, he would have been the co-master mind behind it.

And then there was George. Was there any question that he would need as many friendly faces in the audience as possible? She was particularly worried that she hadn't seen him since his disappearance from the St. Mungo's waiting room. Considering that he had been out to dinner with his parents, however, Katie assumed that he was at least functioning and not in a ditch somewhere, having slit his wrists open. _Well, not that George would ever do that, but she thought that the basic principle of this idea had come through. Oh, Merlin. She had a sick sense of humor lately. _

Lee too now, she realized, needed as much support as possible. After talking with him in the shop yesterday, Katie had a better appreciation for what the twins' best friend was going through. She sighed thinking about Lee, hoping for both his sake as well as Angelina's that the two of them would date already. The constant bickering was getting old, and Katie felt that at twenty, Angelina should tone down her promiscuousness before she got into serious trouble. According to Alicia, Ange had been bringing home various quidditch players from work at least once a week.

Her thoughts then turned to Oliver, her "date" for the evening. She was not sure what she felt about him. She appreciated what he was trying to do for her, but the thought of having an escort to the reopening of Fred's shop seemed wrong at best. She bit her lower lip, wondering how George would react when he saw the two of them together. He had been throwing out remarks about Oliver's obvious attraction to her with obvious contempt. Katie figured this was a combination of George's life time perception of her as his twin's girlfriend and maybe the increased closeness between the two of them since Fred's death. She groaned, sinking beneath her covers. She didn't want to offend George by giving into Oliver, but she didn't want to risk her developing friendship with Oliver because of George. _Since when had her life been so complicated?_ "This is your entire fault, you know," she muttered to the ring on her finger which supposedly represented Fred. "If you hadn't gone and died I wouldn't be in this situation. And I most certainly would not be talking to myself right now."

Katie groaned again and pulled herself into a ball underneath her covers. She was, very clearly, pathetic. She needed to get up and begin the day. She had just listed the reasons she needed to get up and begin the day. And yet, there she still was; unmoving and unwilling to do so. She needed someone to come into her room and force her out of bed if she was going to ever get started.

Katie jumped about half a foot off of her bed at the sound of her door clicking open. _Okay, she wasn't SERIOUS about needing someone to force her out of her bed…who the hell was in her flat??_ Katie inched to the edge of her bed, reached out from underneath her covers, grabbed her wand off of the nightstand, and dashed back toward the center of the bed, shivering. She listened as the person fumbled through her living room. She gripped her wand, pleading that whoever it was just wanted to steal her pathetic excuse for a WWW radio and then get out as quickly as possible. No such luck, however. The door to her bedroom opened. Katie whimpered and waited to be killed, screwing up her eyelids tight.

She could feel the person lift her covers and crawl into bed next to her. _What?!_

"I didn't scare you, did I, little sis?"

Katie's eyes flew open and she stared at Michael who was grinning across from her.

"You bastard!" she yelled, kicking him, and pulling the covers off. "You scared the hell out of me! Don't you knock?!"

"To get into my little sister's flat?" he asked, feigning confusion. "No way! I knicked a key from Mum." He tossed the small brass key up in the air and caught it handily.

She glared at him, shoving her bare foot into his face. "Get out of my bed!" she protested.

Michael calmly took hold of his sister's foot and put it back down. "How are you doing, Katie Kate?" he asked congenially.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Katie pouted, repositioning herself and pulling the covers back over her head. Michael joined her beneath the down comforter.

"Just checking on you," he replied, grinning.

She frowned, unamused. "Why aren't you in the hospital? You're supposed to be there for another week!"

"I sneaked out," he said easily. "I've gotten permission to take the night off, so I thought that I might as well take the day off, too."

Katie quirked an eyebrow. "Why did you want to 'take the night off'?" she asked suspiciously.

Michael grinned devilishly at his sister. "Your brother has got himself a date for tonight to the grand reopening of George's shop. What do you say to that?"

Katie rolled her eyes. "I say which one of the unlucky bimbos posing as your nurse did you manage to seduce into dating you?"

Michael's eyes flashed. "That's the best part, little sis," he said. "It's your good mate, Alicia Anne Spinnet."

"What?!" Katie was incredulous.

"I think she likes me, too," he said confidently. "Of course, why wouldn't she? I mean, look at me…"

"Yes," Katie conceded, "You've been lying in a hospital bed for three days and your eyebrow's starting to grow back. Every witch's fantasy."

She rolled over and ignored him.

"Oh, don't be jealous because you haven't got a date, Kates. There comes a time for everyone."

"For your information," she said importantly, rolling back over to face him. "I _do_ have a date. With an internationally famous quidditch star."

Michael scoffed. "_I_ am an internationally famous quidditch star," he said. "So you'll have to invent some other bloke, because I'll most likely know if the fella exists or not."

She rolled her eyes. "_Oliver Wood_ asked me, Michael."

Her brother looked surprised. "Wood asked you?" he repeated.

"Yes," Katie said defensively. "Why's that so hard to believe?"

Michael shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just surprised you got more than one bloke in your lifetime to show an interest in you."

He clearly meant it to be funny, but Katie didn't find it so. She merely glared at him stonily and then let her face fall.

"Ah, Katie Kate, I'm sorry," Michael frowned. "I didn't mean it like that, I was just--"

"Trying to be funny, I know," Katie finished for him. She sighed. "Michael, I don't know what to do," she finally stated.

"About what?"

She considered this question. "About everything," she answered.

He stroked his chin in mock thought. "Well," he said slowly. "Everything's kind of a big task, so why don't we start with right now?"

Katie allowed herself to laugh. "Alright," she said. "What am I going to do right now?"

"First, you're going to get yourself out of bed," Michael said, grinning at her. "Then you're going to shower, and brush your teeth because your breath _stinks_--"

Katie gasped incredulously, and slugged her brother in the shoulder, laughing.

"And then you're going to get yourself over to the Weasley's," Michael continued, "And apologize to George for leaving him to his own devices in the ever so boring waiting room of St. Mungo's Hospital while you sobbed over my broken body—don't roll your eyes like that, you did so—and then you're going to put on a dress and attempt to look decent for Oliver Andrew Wood, keeper and star of Puddlemore United, while enjoying an evening full of Weasley wonders. Sound good?"

She smiled. "It does," she admitted. "But I won't do it."

"What? Why not?"

"I need you to do a favor for me first."

Michael rolled his eyes. "What?" he asked. "I'm not cooking you breakfast, you're going to have to put up with toast as usual."

"No," she said, interrupting him. "I need you to get yourself back to hospital because Mum's going to throw a tissy fit when she goes to visit you in—" she checked her watch. "Five minutes and finds that you've run off."

Katie enjoyed this one-up on her brother as she watched his face fall into shock. Michael yelled a quick "G'bye!" and dashed out her front door, disapparating.

Katie laughed lightly to herself and then rolled out of her bed, doing exactly as Michael had instructed her to do. 

XXX

Katie Apparated on the Weasley's front porch with boysenberry pies in her arms, stacked up to her chin. George had mentioned that his mother would be doing some baking for the launch party and Katie figured she might make her own contribution and see if she could help Molly before finding George. She'd spent two galleons on the whole stack, but she figured it was worth it. She'd even had the shop take them out of the cardboard boxes so that they looked home made.

She rang the doorbell and Molly appeared, looking extremely surprised to see Katie there.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Katie began, albeit a little awkwardly. "I heard you were doing some baking for the party tonight and I thought you might—er—want a little help?" She held out the boysenberry pies with a forced grin on her face.

Molly took them happily, dumping them on an unsuspecting Ginny who had appeared to see who was at the door, and smothered Katie in a hug.

"Oh, Kathryn," she said, squeezing her tightly. "I knew you would come! George said you would be too busy to help with the baking, but I knew you would come. Come on, let's get you inside and in an apron!"

Katie flushed, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth at George's obvious attempt at protecting his friend from having his mother discover her inability to cook anything other than a piece of toast—and sometimes not even that. Katie smiled obsequiously as Mrs. Weasley threw a floral print apron over her head and began to tie the strings, but when she turned around she silently pleaded with Ginny and mouthed the words "_Help me!_" Ginny just shrugged and gave her a look as if to say, "You got yourself into your own mess." _Damn. Why did the girl have to be so much like her twin brothers?_

"What eez going on? Who eez there?"

Katie turned around to find none other than Fleur Delacourt, Bill's wife, emerging from the dining room into the small kitchen. She was sporting an apron identical to Katie's, slender milky arms covered in flour. She looked at Katie scrutinizing, as if trying to place her. Katie frowned slightly. She didn't mind Fleur or anything, but she would always remember her as the perfect half-veela princess who had referred to Katie as "zat little mezzy-haired quidditch girl who runs 'round wiz zee twins." Not to mention she had caught Fred sporting with one of her veela cousins at the wedding. _Yes, so she was sort of a grudge holder. But would she be a good witch if she wasn't?_

"Katie's come to help with the baking, Fleur," Ginny said firmly, coming to her rescue.

"Oh," Fleur said, obviously remembering who she was now. "Kah-tee. Oui. Je te souviens maintenant. Tu etait fiancee avec Fred, oui ? »

Katie stared at her. The little French that she did know was ill spoken and learned from Jacquelyn during random breaks at work. She had no idea what Fleur had just said, but she had heard Fred's name and nodded. Fleur looked satisfied. Katie exchanged glances with Ginny who rolled her eyes and said in a low voice, "She's always doing that. Apparently Bill finds it sexy."

The two girls shared a hushed laugh as Molly handed Katie a bowl of something unrecognizable and told her to stir. Figuring that she could handle this, Katie complied cautiously.

"Katie, dear," Molly said as she hurried over toward the oven. "We've just heard that Michael's woken up! What wonderful news! That must have really taken a load off your poor mother's mind. Andromeda's been in such a state lately…"

"Yeah," Katie said, smiling. "Yeah, she has. But it's really great to have Michael back. He's…" She searched for the right word. "He's my brother."

Fleur began kneading something and Ginny threw some ingredients together in a pot while Mrs. Weasley worked on frosting what looked like the millionth cake she had made that afternoon. Katie was very happy to be stirring.

"And you'll be with Oliver Wood tonight, too! You must be so happy," Molly buzzed. Katie suddenly dropped the spoon and looked up at the older red-headed woman.

"How'd you know I was going with Oliver?" she asked curiously. Oliver had only asked her to be his date last night, and she had told only Michael of it since then. Molly seemed to realize her mistake, whatever it was, because she turned red and started patting her hair nervously.

"Oh," she said. "You know…here and there."

Katie looked at her curiously and then, acting on a sudden thought, rushed to say, "Mrs. Weasley, it's not really a date. I only agreed because my grandpa wanted me to. I'm _really _not ready to start dating again, it's totally just a one time thing. I—I still c-can't think of anyone b-but F-Fred.."

"Oh, _dear_." In an instant Molly had dropped the tube of frosting and was once again smothering Katie in one of her famously suffocating hugs. Katie patted her back awkwardly. This wasn't what she had been hoping for, but as long as Mrs. Weasley knew that she wasn't casting aside her son as quick as she possibly could…

"Oh, dear, of _course_ you can't!" Molly continued, cooing. "None of us expect you to! But Oliver is _such _a nice boy, he'll take good care of you tonight. Of course, we all were wanting George to ask you, and he was going to, too, but this way it turned out so much better…and he's got the Johnson girl, now, so he's happy as well…"

Katie pulled away from Mrs. Weasley and looked at her, searching her care-worn face. "George was going to ask me?" she said, confused. "_What_?"

Molly's jaw dropped now, and she once again flushed red. "Oh," she hummed. "Oh dear, forget I said anything. Never you mind, it was just a silly idea of Arthur's…oh, and me, too. But don't you worry about it, it was nothing." She waved her hand aside as if to illustrate her point, but Katie continued to press.

"Is that how you knew Oliver asked me? Did George find out?"

But Molly just hummed away and headed for the stairs. "I'll fetch Hermione," she said. "She's staying the week with us before heading back to Hogwarts—the children have the option of going back or not, you know, and Hermione's always been so diligent about her studies. Good girl---_Hermione!_ Hermione, come down here, we'd like your company." She turned to smile at the three girls in the kitchen. "Then we can have all the Weasley women here," she said, smiling. Katie raised an eyebrow. _Weasley women?_

She turned to ask Ginny what her mother meant by this, but she was interrupted by Fleur.

"'Ow do you do zat, Kah-tee?" she asked abruptly. Katie looked at her curiously.

"Do what?" she asked.

"Make Molly like you," she explained. "Eet 'as taken me almost zees two years for 'er to like me. One to respect me, two for 'er to admire me. And I s'ought zat eet was because I was marrying Bill, but you were fiancé avec Fred and she still loves you like 'er own daughter. Why eez zis?"

Katie shrugged, actually feeling rather bad for the French part-veela with perfect features. "I dunno," she said stupidly. "It might have something to do with her knowing me so long…you just kind of…showed up." As the words came out of her mouth, she realized how stupid they sounded, but it was too late to stop them.

Amazingly, however, Fleur nodded her magnificent head. "Zat," she said, "And you are razzer like zee twins yourself, with zat dangerous broomstick game and always running out in zee mud. You are a very loud girl, very much like one of her sons. No wonder she likes you."

Offended, Katie opened her mouth to say something rude, but Ginny caught her arm.

"Let it go," she said in a low whisper. "D'you want to know about George?"

"Yes," Katie said, instantly forgetting her petty squabble with the French girl. "Is he okay?"

Ginny looked at her curiously. "Yeah, he's fine…he was at your place last night, though, trying to ask you to be his date to the launch party. He saw Wood ask you out, and told us this morning. That's how Mum knew."

"He saw Oliver ask me out?" Katie repeated, dumbfounded. "How?"

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not sure…but you should try to be a little gentle around him."

"Godric, are you sure he's okay?" Katie asked, maybe a little overanxiously.

Again, Ginny regarded her with curiosity. "He's fine, Katie," she assured the older girl. "I just think he's a little tender about it right now. Nothing that you did, of course," she added hastily as she saw Katie on the brink of another outburst. "It's just a difficult time for him right now, you know. Reopening the shop, and he's still missing Fred, of course. I think losing you finally sent him over the edge."

"He didn't _lose_ me," Katie said defensively. "It's not like I _wanted_ to go with Wood. And I'm still right here!"

"_I_ know that," Ginny hissed. "_He_ doesn't. But he'll realize it's not serious in a couple of days. Really, don't worry about. Just…until then, could you try to not be too up on Oliver?"

She scowled. "What d'you take me for? Some kind of hussy? I'm freaking out just because I consented to be his date, there's no way I'd snog him. Especially in public, and especially in front of George. Who d'you think I am?"

Ginny shrugged. "Sorry," she said. "People just handle grief in different ways."

Katie raised an eyebrow, wondering if the young red-head was drawing upon her own experiences. Ginny had been mysteriously missing from quite a few social gatherings, Harry Potter always gone at the same times. She shook herself, trying to get the mental image out of her head. That was the last thing she needed right now."

"Well d'you know where he is, anyway?" Katie asked. "George, I mean. I'd like to talk to him."

"He's at the shop with Ron and Lee," she replied, looking a little guilty. "Sorry…I'm sure he'd love to see you, though, if you could pop 'round a bit early. He's been in a right state all morning, you'd set him up for sure."

Katie opened her mouth to ask something else, but she was interrupted by the reappearance of Molly Weasley into the kitchen, Hermione tailing behind her. Katie and the bushy-haired girl regarded one another awkwardly.

"Hi, Katie," Hermione said gently, smiling.

Katie attempted to return the gesture, but failed miserably, only managing a slight inclination of her head. She turned away, ashamed of herself and very ashamed of the reason she couldn't look the younger girl in the eye. Silly and irrational as it was, Katie couldn't help but bear a slight grudge against Hermione Granger. Hermione--one of the closest people to Harry Potter, always up front in the action, always one step ahead of everyone else in the order, always in the most danger—had lived. Not only had she lived, she had escaped unscathed. There was no scarring on her skin, no missing ear, no one had bitten her and turned her into half of a werewolf. And, most envious of all, she was in love. With Ron. Another who had lived in the heat of the action while those around them died. She supposed she ought to be grateful to the little trio, considering that they had, after all, saved the world…but in a very small way, entirely inhumane of her, she resented them. She resented them because they had lived, and Fred had died. Ron lost his brother, yes. That she felt very sorry for. But Ron—along with the rest of the world—couldn't fathom what George must be feeling. Hermione had no idea what it was like to have the only person you ever loved die when everything was about to work out. Harry had his best friends, and Ginny, too. What did Katie have? Almost nothing…for a while, it had felt like she had lost her entire world along with Fred. And George? Not only had George lost his twin—half of his identity—he'd lost his fucking ear. Try as she might, Katie could not be the bigger person and let this go. So she merely nodded to Hermione Granger as everything else in the Weasley kitchen seemed bright and happy, and Molly said:

"Here we all are! The Weasley women! Those who have always been—" she smiled at her daughter, "Those who have joined us," she squeezed Fleur's hand which seemed to please the girl immensely, "And to those who hopefully will someday be!" She glanced meaningfully toward Hermione who instantly flushed the deepest color of red and busied herself with her apron strings.

"And those who might have been," Katie whispered under her breath as she returned to her stirring.

XXX

**Oh geez, sorry this chapter is so long! And…not INCREDIBLY interesting…but I felt like the story was very male dominated & I wanted kind of a girls' chapter ) Also, if Katie is coming off as ridiculously & unbelievably cruel, let me know. I might have been letting some of my own personal feelings come into play right at the end. Ha ha. Look for another update soon, & thanks for your patience!**


	15. Finding George

**A/N: This one's a bit shorter, but I hope you like it anyway…more longer chapters to come.**

Katie was beginning to think that her so-called philanthropy wasn't such a good idea after all. As she moved around the kitchen, observing the mysterious world of baking, she began to feel rather out of place. She wasn't sure where she fit in with these women; Despite appreciating Mrs. Weasley for being the mother of her two best friends, they didn't really have much in common. Katie hated all things domestic, and Mrs. Weasley had always been a little cautious about quidditch. As for Fleur, there was no need to explain. Tall, blonde veela and a brunette Chaser. Nothing more really needed to be said, did it? With Hermione, it was still that irrational aversion to her that would most likely persist for a while. And Ginny…well, she supposed she had the most in common with the youngest Weasley, but she _was_ four years younger. Katie sighed, pretending to know what she was doing with a cooking utensil that she didn't actually know the name of. She wished George were there to save her the awkwardness of this moment. She had been stupid not to have known he would be at the shop.

Katie was very bored. Observing that the rest of the "Weasley Women" were managing baking duties quite handily, she considered making an excuse and dashing off to the shop to find George. She was about to say that she needed to check up on the amount of space available for the dessert buffet and escape when none other than Charlie Weasley burst through the door.

"I'm home!" he shouted cheerily, hanging up his jacket and looking around the small living room. "Mum? Gin? Anyone?"

"Charlie, we're in here, dear," Molly called, craning her neck to see her second son. "He's been down since this morning for the launch," she added to Katie, smiling.

Charlie stepped jauntily through the entryway to the kitchen, and his face split into a wide grin when he saw Katie. "Kates!" he shouted, throwing his arm out wide.

Katie grinned and hurtled toward her older brother's best friend, nearly knocking him over as she enveloped him in a giant bear hug, which made Fleur frown slightly.

"How are you, kiddo?!" Charlie asked excitedly, mussing up her hair as they parted. "How's Michael?! I tried to pop in to see him this morning, but Alicia said no visitors…"

She laughed. "That's because he sneaked out to see me," she explained. "How are you, though? I haven't seen you since—"

She paused, trying to figure out how to best phrase this. She hadn't seen Charlie since Fred's funeral, but she didn't think any of them needed reminding of this, especially today.

"Since June," Charlie finished for her, squeezing her shoulder. "I've been good, you know…"

Katie nodded. She did now. Charlie now looked up, surveying the rest of the kitchen.

"Hullo, Hermione, Fleur," he said, waving cheerily to both of them. Hermione grinned back and Fleur smiled, inclining her scintillating blonde head. "Mum, Ginny. Have any of you lot seen George around? Ron and Lee are missing him at the shop…"

Mrs. Weasley looked surprised and Ginny raised an eyebrow. "What d'you mean?" the youngest Weasley asked. "We thought he was at the shop with the rest of you."

Charlie's face fell and Mrs. Weasley let out a moan. "Oh, Georgie," she said nervously to herself, wringing her hands. "What _now_?"

"We'd better find him, Mum," Charlie said, placing a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder. "Ron said he hadn't been over there in a couple of hours."

"Yes, yes…obviously," Molly replied, collecting herself. "Okay, everyone, aprons off. Ginny, you search the yard because you can't Apparate yet—" Ginny moaned, "And everyone else…let's find my son!"

"I weel check zee cottage, eef he 'as gone to see Bill," Fleur volunteered, disapparating with a _pop_.

"I'll have a look 'round the village, I guess," Charlie said grimly, and copied Fleur.

Before she knew it, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley had disapparated as well, Ginny had taken off somewhere, and Katie was by herself in the kitchen. She bit her lip nervously. She thought she had an idea of where George might have gone, but she didn't exactly want to go there either…

XXX

The late morning was full of sunshine, and Katie squinted up the hill, trying to make out what she was hoping to see in the distance. No such luck, however. _Damn_. _That meant that she would have to get closer_. As she forced her feet to take her through the meadow and up the hill, she wondered how it was that she knew exactly where to go. There was no reason that it should be her instead of Molly, or Ginny, or Charlie that knew exactly where George would be on the morning of the reopening of his and his brother's joke shop. And yet, she knew.

She was also nervous about what awaited her once she got there. She knew that George was likely to be in a state, but what kind of state, she wasn't sure. And since she would be the one to find him, it would be up to her to comfort him. Katie sighed, reflecting on how much comfort she had had to give over the past year. At school, that was never her duty. It was Alicia's, and sometimes Angelina's. She had been no good at consoling anyone. Katie's idea of making someone feel better had been to say, "Well, at least you're not being eaten alive by a Kodiak bear." Needless to say, this had not consoled a sobbing LeAnn who had just been broken up with by Alex Gatsby. And now, for some reason, she had the mysterious feeling that George just might need her as much as she needed him—for whatever reason. And though she couldn't explain how she knew where to go, or her uncanny ability to bring comfort to George, she still made her slow and steady way up the hill in the meadow toward Fred Weasley's grave.

What she saw when she finally reached the top of the hill nearly caused her to lose her nerve. Fred's simple grave marker stood out amidst the long grasses and wildflowers, but nearly missed George altogether. He was stretched out on the ground, lying stomach down, hands gripping patches of wild grass. He made no noise, but Katie noted the strained muscles in his hand and the heaving of his stomach. And for the first time approaching George since Fred's death, she was scared.

She hung back for a couple of moments, the thought of calling his mother or Charlie to him instead fleeting in and out of her brain. She considered making a joke, since that was the order of the day, but dismissed this immediately. Calling his name would not work either. Katie breathed in deeply, slowly, and attempted to just trust whatever was inside of her that was telling her what to do.

Cautiously, Katie tiptoed over and lowered herself onto the grass next to George. She arranged herself so that she was at eye-level with him and slowly lay down. His long hair had fallen over his eyes so that he couldn't see her, but his hands loosened their grip on the ground as he felt his presence next to her. Almost trembling, Katie reached up with both of her hands and parted his hair.

"Hey," she said softly, returning her hands so that her head rested on them.

George's eyes were dry, and curiously calm. He didn't answer her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, gently again.

George stared at her for a while before answering, "He's right here. My twin's right here, six feet below me, and this is the closest I've been to him in a quarter of a year."

Katie felt her eyes start to well up, but fought it off. George did not need her breaking down, too.

"Fred's not down there, George," she said softly, forcing her voice to remain calm. "That's just his body. Nothing else."

George just shook his head, putting his face to the ground. "I can't do this," he said, voice muffled.

Katie regarded her friend sadly. "I know that it feels that way," she conceded. "But you're so much stronger than that, you know? Everyone else knows that you can do this—brilliantly, too. You just seem to be the only one who's missed the memo."

She smiled lightly as he turned his head to face her, a slight breeze ruffling his scruffy bangs. "But this is so much easier…" he whispered.

Katie shook her head. "Sadness is easier because it's surrender," she told him, still not letting her voice rise above softness. "And the George Weasley I know never surrenders. He fights, and he fights with style, too. George Weasley sends firework dragons from rockets chasing after the bad things in his life."

She smiled again, hoping to encourage him, but he just regarded her as though unconvinced.

"I don't think I can be funny tonight," he admitted. "Not like this."

"Of course you can't," Katie said, causing him to be surprised. But she went on. "It takes time to be funny. It takes time to extract all the joy from life. Everyone knows that. The key is to not let anyone know that you're not to that point yet."

"What d'you mean?" he asked curiously.

"I just mean fake it 'til you make it, Georgie," she smiled. "That, I know you can do."

"I dunno…" he said, contemplating this.

"George," she said, more firmly now as she sat up and pulled her legs underneath her. "You can. And you might not realize it until you're out there in front of all your friends, but it will come."

"You think so?" he asked, sitting up and joining her.

"I promise," she said firmly. "You have a beautiful date and I know you'll be the most dashing bloke in the place. Everyone's going to be jealous of Angelina."

She said this a little sadly, surprising herself.

"Except for maybe Lee," George added off-hand.

Katie grinned and laughed. "See?" she said. "You can do it."

"As long as you're there in the audience and I can see your face the whole time," George replied seriously.

Katie smiled softly and touched his hand. "You can count on it."

"And George?" she asked suddenly on an afterthought as they were taking their time walking back to the Burrow. "Thanks for waiting up for me at St. Mungo's. It meant a lot, even though you didn't stick around to say hullo."

George shrugged uncomfortably. "Oh, I just fell asleep on accident, that's all…and I didn't notice that you were back in the waiting room when I woke up, so I took off."

Katie just smiled knowingly and looped her arm through his.

"I love you for it anyway."


	16. Dinner With Wood

Katie lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling without blinking

**A/N: Hello, everyone. I apologize for my leave of absence. Was at university. My summer project will be attempting to finish this story, however, if anyone's still interested in it. Disclaimer, though, I will not be following JK's little wrap up of having George marry Angelina. Sorry, but it's just not happening. I accepted her killing Fred, but not this. Please read & review, as always.**

Katie lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling without blinking. _Where was she supposed to be?_ She couldn't remember. Her entire universe at the moment was the white-washed ceiling above her. Then she remembered—she'd escaped here to avoid dressing for tonight. She was very much regretting having ever agreed to let Oliver accompany her. Even if she had simply agreed to let him escort her there, that would be fine. It was ridiculous that she was going to dinner with him. She let her eyes flick to the clock on the nightstand next to her bed. Wood was due to arrive in twenty minutes and she was still covered in flour and grass stains from her trip to the Weasley's. She ought to get up.

She knew she ought to, and yet she couldn't make herself. All of her thoughts were floating back to Fred, bouncing off the pale white ceiling and rebounding back into her brain. Katie would hide in her room until Wood left.

Except she knew he wouldn't.

She knew him well enough by now that the stubborn Scotsman would simply Apparate inside and make sure she hadn't slit her wrists in agony, or something less gruesome…like slipped in the shower and passed out. _He would come see her like that….what a pervert_.

Katie tried thinking about what all the girls from school would say if they found out she was going out with Wood. They'd be jealous. But she couldn't make herself care about the girls from school. She hadn't even cared about them while she was _in_ school. No, that would not work. The thing to do was to forget it was a date. Plain and simple. It would be easy. Because, after all, it wasn't _really_ one anyway. This was the bloke she would say "Morning, Wood" to and crack up with Angelina and Alicia. The twins never thought this was funny. They had made every possible joke about Oliver's name before they'd finished the first year.

Katie laughed to herself at this memory and rolled off her bed, throwing open her closet door. Her wardrobe was clearly that of a female who hadn't been on a first date in years. It consisted mainly of work clothes, old quidditch tees, and jeans. She frowned, and then remembered something. Grabbing a stool and reaching for the top shelf in the closet, Katie stood on her tip toes and managed grab hold of a box. Teetering, she successfully held the box to her, and then lost balance. Sprawling back down on her bed, clothes came flying out of the box. Undeterred, she threw them across the room until she found what she was looking for: a simple, strappy black cocktail dress.

Aunt Elizabeth had given it to her for her birthday when she became of age. She had never had occasion to wear it. She always thought that sometime when things slowed down and the war ended, she and Fred would go celebrate at some new club and she would be able to break it in. Now…well, that didn't matter. Now she was wearing it to the reopening of Fred's shop.

Katie slipped on the dress. It fit like a glove. She stopped for a second to admire the way it fit to her body, and then turned her attention to her hair. She avoided anything extreme, simply combed out the short dark mass until it shone and then performed the same curling charm she had the day she had gone with her friends to the movie theater. By the time she finished her makeup, Wood was knocking on the door.

Focused on not letting her emotions get the best of her, Katie put on a pair of heels and what she felt might be a pleasant expression, and opened her door. Oliver was grinning rather goofily, clutching a bouquet of daffodils. He was dressed nicely, his hair combed. He thrust the bouquet at her.

"Here," he said, Scottish accent thicker than ever. "You look nice."

In spite of herself, Katie laughed. "Wood, you look nervous," she observed, reaching up and flicking him behind the ear. "This is just me. You know—Katie…the girl you made run extra laps for having a lie in during dawn practices?"

"Right," Oliver said. "But you didn't look like this when you had a lie in. You had red puffy eyes and your hair stuck up in the back and—"

"Alright, alright," Katie said testily, whacking Oliver with the flowers before reaching to get a vase. "Where are we going, Romeo?"

Wood stepped over to Katie's counter to help her reach the vase she was struggling to get. He easily grabbed it and gave it to her. "I thought we'd go to the Paper Dragon," he said casually. "It's far enough from Diagon Alley that I didn't think people would recognize you. Or either of us, I guess."

Katie measured his consideration and smiled at it. "Thanks, Ol," she said. "Sounds great."

"And Katie?" he asked, momentarily serious.

Katie turned, slightly raising an eyebrow. Here was where he would try—and fail—to say something heroic or encouraging about Fred. She could feel it. She braced herself.

"Don't worry about tonight," he said, and then his face split into a grin. "Because as great as you look, you're safe with me."

She actually laughed and rolled her eyes.

He flashed a grin at her and took her hand, and they both Disapparated to large, chique looking building at the edge of Diagon Alley. Katie had never been here before; it opened up a few weeks ago, she had read about it in the paper. It made sense that Oliver would pick somewhere like this—chique and new. She'd never been anywhere like this with Fred before. For most of their dating lives, Fred had been too poor to take her anywhere other than Chachky's in Hogsmeade, and just as his business was starting to take off, the war escalated. It didn't matter, though. They had never been a pair to place too much stock into hype and glamour.

She mused on this and tried to shake it off as Oliver pushed the door open and held it for her as she stepped inside. For some reason, she had a fleeting wonder where George and Angelina were at the moment, fearing facing them in this same place. It was odd and she dismissed it. Katie was still in somewhat of a different place as Oliver cheerily asked for his reservation. The witch behind the counter's eyes lit up as she recognized Oliver and clumsily led them to their table. Katie managed a small smile and blinked twice at her menu.

The Paper Dragon was a nice place. The room was dimly lit, with sleek looking low lamps hanging from the ceiling. There was a small jazz ensemble playing in the corner. The witch that was singing had a low, husky voice that seemed to fit in with the surroundings. Katie watched the piano player's hands shift in different patterns as the witch sang the slow paced, smooth medley.

"Katie?"

Wood's voice brought her back to her senses.

"Hi, Wood," she said.

He smiled at her. "Like it?" he asked.

"I do, actually," she said sincerely. "It's nice and…calm…." She trailed off.

"That's what I thought, too," Wood agreed. "I thought it might be a nice place to come before the Reopening."

Katie could only nod. She returned her eyes to the menu where she tried to find something she could both identify and eat without spilling it in her lap.

"How are you, Katie?" Oliver again interrupted her silent musings.

_I'm alright, if half-dead is alright._

"I'm fine, Oliver, and how are you?"

"Worried about you." He said it simply, without a trace of irony. "_How are you, Katie?"_

"Really?" she asked, wondering why he wanted to go into it tonight.

"Really. I can see it's on your mind, and I'd rather you lead the conversation than me trying to pretend you're just dandy."

She half-smiled. "Dandy?" she asked.

"Sorry," he apologized, almost blushing. "Mum says it."

"Well, Ol, most of the time I am dandy," Katie said shortly.

"And the other times?"

She sighed, and told Wood about her experience with George at the graveyard that afternoon. He listened quietly until she finished, a grim look on his face.

"And then, I didn't know what to do," Katie said simply. "He misses him, Ol. He misses him so much it hurts. And I don't know what to tell him, because I can't make sense of it myself enough to bring myself to say that everything will be alright in the end. What's going to happen? After a few months, he'll be fine, and then_ bam, _he'll grow a new heart? I can't say that to him, Ol. I'm just so worried about him…"

Wood just nodded.

"And then there's Mrs. Weasley, _Merlin_, I don't know how she does it. Every day she'll get out of bed, and hurry herself around the house, and all she'll say is, 'All forward motion counts'. Just like that. But inside she's hurting—hurting so much, you can see it in her eyes. He's in there, I see it. So much sorrow, Wood. So much hurt, so much pain."

It was quiet for a few seconds before Oliver finally spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know you're concerned about these people, but Katie…I asked how _you_ were."

She laughed a little, in spite of herself.

"I'm doing alright, Ollie."

"Katie, he was your fiancé."

"I know."

"So?"

"So how are you doing it?"

Katie took a breath, and shook her head.

"I don't know, honestly," she said. "But somewhere along the line I started to tell myself that I just had to…get out of bed every morning. And breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while, I'm hoping I won't have to tell myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out all day long. And I won't have to think about…how I had it great and perfect for a while."

She finished and shrugged her shoulders, trying to fight back the lump in her throat and the hurt that was growing in her stomach. Oliver's eyes looked horribly concerned, but he just nodded.

"I had no idea he meant that much to you…that he was that big of a part of your life."

_Understatement of the century._

Katie simply nodded. "Oh, it was a million tiny little things," she said. "And when you added them all up it meant we were supposed to be together. And I knew it. I knew it the first time we kissed. It was magic."

It was quiet. Oliver cautiously touched her hand. She didn't want it there, but she knew he was empathetic enough that she couldn't shove him away.

"Why?" she asked, keeping her voice remarkably steady. "Why him? It doesn't make any kind of sense. He _was_ life. He _was _life to me."

"I don't know, Kates," he said solemnly. "But if you keep asking yourself why…you'll go crazy."

She nodded, pulling herself together. This probably wasn't what Oliver had wanted, nor what either of them needed. She would save her break downs for when she was alone. Or with George.

She was saved from trying to come up with a subject change when the waitress came to their table.

"Are you two ready?" she asked.

Oliver ordered something in French Katie didn't recognize. The waitress then looked down at her patiently. She then realized that she hadn't yet decided on anything for dinner.

"Um," she said. "Do you guys just have grilled cheese?"

The waitress looked at her, trying to measure her up, and finally answered with a startled yes, they could make that work, and left.

Oliver looked at Katie, clearly attempting to suppress a laugh. She cracked a grin and the two of them busted up laughing, causing the few other guests in the restaurant to stare.

XXX


	17. Silence In A Crowd

Katie was completely unprepared for what lay behind the door Wood held open for her

**A/N: I have been trying to keep this story as cannon as possible, but due to recent revelations regarding Angelina & George ending up together, my plans have been (once again) FOILED. Thanks, J.K. Anyway, I want to know what you guys think…I can write it so Angelina and George end up together, or I can go my original route & stray from cannon. So please review & in your review leave your vote: Angelina/George, or…other…thanks, loves! Cheers.**

Katie was completely unprepared for what lay behind the door Wood held open for her. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was almost blinding: the various shades of loud bright colors hung from the rafters in banners, streamers, balloons and fairy lights. There were clusters of candy trees donated by Honeydukes, and what looked like a bar behind a partition of lime green. Round tables populated the store floor, each with a centerpiece of a trapped firework in a jar, and accompanied by loud tablecloths and a bowl of candy which was labeled "Go Ahead—_Try me." _George, Lee, and Ron had certainly outdone themselves. But the décor was nothing compared with the number of people sitting, standing, and milling about the fountain of butterbeer (one wizard yelped as his mug suddenly grew teeth and clamped down tightly on his nose), and other various corners of the store. Most of Hogwarts' staff was there, including McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick, Sprout, and Sinistra. Several ministry figures roamed the store, along with dozens upon dozens of Weasley friends and relatives. Grandpa Artemis was there in a wheelchair, being pushed around by a beaming Elizabeth and looking very hard like he was trying to be surly. Andromeda sat by her sister in a new black dress, dirty blonde hair combed to perfection, lines on her face visibly disintegrated. The Weasleys were sitting at a table at the very front, surrounded by people. Katie squinted her eyes, scanning the room for George, but her view was suddenly overcome by a very close, very blonde obstruction.

"Alicia!" Katie yelled. "What the hell was that for?"

"Hi, Spinnet," Wood smirked, moving Katie aside. "Sorry, Kates has been a little…on-edge…this evening."

"I'll bet," Alicia laughed, embracing Oliver. She was wearing a periwinkle blue, tight fitting sleeveless dress, and her bright blonde hair was especially straight and shiny. "Sorry to ambush you, Katie, but could you, erm…maybe help me get your brother to come out of the toilet? He's been in there for at least twenty minutes."

"Michael?" Katie said blankly. "What's he doing in there?"

Alicia shrugged. "I'm not sure. We were over at the bar getting drinks and all of a sudden, he just yelled and ran into the loo. I think he's barricaded himself in."

Katie quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure he was mentally stable enough to come to this, Al?"

"Yes!" the blonde girl said defensively. "At least, I think so…"

She sighed. "Well let's go see, shall we? I'll be right back, Ol, must go knock some sense into my brother."

"Er, okay, Katie…" Wood trailed off, eyeing a crowd of school-age girls who were unabashedly staring at him, grins plastered onto their faces. "Sure you don't want me to come along?"

"Go sign some autographs," she returned. "It won't kill you."

Katie began to cross the floor, wrapping her arm inside the crook of Alicia's as she did so.

"Have you seen George?" she asked, eyes flitting through the masses of people.

"Uh-uh," Alicia replied. "I don't even think Ange has seen him, and she's his date. She's off spying on Lee. I think she's jealous he's brought another girl."

The girls laughed as they approached the toilets.

"MICHAEL!" Katie yelled sharply, banging on the bathroom door. "Get out here! I won't let you ask my friend out and leave her by herself! What the hell are you doing in there??"

"Hiding!" her brother's voice yelled back.

"Wha--? From _who_?" She looked strangely at Alicia. The blonde girl shrugged and shook her head in equal confusion.

"From..._people_!" Michael replied, sounding distressed but in a comical way. "Have you _seen_ who's out there, Kates??"

"I've seen _Alicia_…your _date_," Katie said impatiently. "Who is far too good looking for you, let alone to _wait_ around for you while you're being a prat!"

"She does look good, doesn't she?" Michael mused from behind the door. "That little blue dress, the gorgeous blonde hair…if I didn't respect her, I swear tonight I'd…she's out there isn't she?"

"Hi Michael," Alicia said, smirking.

Katie rolled her eyes.

"What is your problem?" she yelled. "You have never been one to hide from attention…you're a ruddy quidditch player for Godric's sake!"

"But those _people_!" Michael again stated. "Grandpa Artemis…he's going to rip me from limb to limb for missing the end of the war—"

"He's in a wheel chair, Michael."

"That won't stop him!"

"You are _such_ a pansy."

"And mum! Now that I'm healing, she'll just be nagging me for not being married yet like she always does!"

"So sit with Charlie! He's here!"

"And then there's Charlie! How can I face him after collapsing like a prat?"

"You were in a _coma_," his sister reminded him. "And your date is a certified medi-witch. She'll back you up."

"I'm pretty sure there's no way you could have hexed off any death eaters while you were out cold," Alicia supplied.

"And _McGonagall!_ And all the other teachers from Hogwarts whose homework I never turned in!"

"Godric, Michael, are you an_ idiot_? They are _not_ thinking about homework right now!"

"But still!"

"They probably won't even recognize you! You're a bloody mess! You don't even have your left eyebrow fully back yet!"

"Hey--!"

"I think you look dashing," Alicia said, trying to be helpful.

"Really?"

"Really really."

"Well, in that case…and I guess you're right, Kates. I'll be inconspicuous. I'll hide behind Alicia."

"I'm five foot one."

"Never mind."

"Just give me five minutes. I have to take a leak."

Katie rolled her eyes and was about to comment on her brother's total lack of dating skill when a voice behind her said, "Sure thing, Bell, just don't use the second toilet in. It pees on _you_."

Katie turned around to see George Weasley, a slightly satisfied smirk on his freckled face. George looked taller than usual that night, flaming red hair neat but still classically shaggy. He was sporting a loud magenta tuxedo and a lime green flower on his breast-pocket.

"Hi, Kay," he said smiling.

"George!" She hugged him tightly. "George, this is so…so _amazing_, seriously, I had no clue you guys were up to all this in here!"

"Congratulations, George," Alicia smiled as he enveloped her in a hug.

There was a flush and Michael came out, looking slightly bewildered. He had attempted to tame his messy brown hair, and was wearing a tuxedo, which looked slightly out of place as his left eyebrow was indeed still missing and a long scar on his right cheek stood out prominently.

"I thought you told me it was the second toilet," he said stupidly. "Because I used the third and…"

"Simple prank mate," George returned. "That's the order of the evening."

He offered his hand which Michael shook, face splitting into a grin.

"So does that mean you're covered in…" Alicia began.

"Miss Spinnet, my darling, would you care to accompany me to the other end of the store?" Michael interrupted, taking her arm and guiding her away. "That butterbeer fountain looks _quite _tempting…"

Katie smiled up at George and gave him another hug.

"You did a bang up job, mate," she said.

He just grinned and shrugged.

"How are you?" she asked, peering into his face. "Nervous at all?"

George looked around and then nodded. "Yes, a little."

"You'll be fantastic," she said, standing on her tip toes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "I just know it. Where's Angelina?"

He laughed harshly. "Floating around Lee somewhere, I imagine. But it's no problem. I'll wrangle that girl in and make her dance with me at least once before the night's through."

"Is there going to be dancing?" she asked, confused.

"Hypothetically."

"Ah."

"Listen, Kay…thanks for coming. Seriously, I mean it. Without you, I dunno what—"

"No problem," she said dismissively, cutting him off short. She would have enough emotion to deal with throughout the evening, there was no reason to start now.

"Well then at least let me say that you look…_wow_," George stalled, smiling and looking lost. Katie laughed, and waved a hand dismissively.

"George, it's _me_."

"Oh, right. _Ew_."

"You don't look too bad yourself, mate."

"Where's Wood?" he said suddenly, looking around over the tops of heads.

"Oh Godric, Oliver!" Katie exclaimed. "I've forgotten all about him! I left him to a bunch of ravenous teenage girls…poor bloke…"

"Katie…"

"Yeah?" She turned around to look at him.

"Nothing. Enjoy yourself."

She grinned. "Good luck, George. See you after the show."

And she dashed off to find Oliver.

Katie scoured the patches of teenage girls, but found no trace of Wood. Instead, she spotted him talking to a tall witch in a silver dress with light brown hair that was done up in curls.

"Oliver?" she asked, touching his arm.

He turned around to grin at her. "There you are," he said. "Jacquelyn from your work was looking for you, so we were chatting."

"Jaq!" Katie exclaimed, suddenly looking at the witch and recognizing her. "You made it!"

"Well I had to, didn't I? All you talk about is your friend George…"

"Nothing about me?" Wood said, pretending to be put out. She elbowed him, and Jacquelyn stared unabashedly.

"D'you know any blokes you could put me with?" she asked suddenly. "I came by myself, I didn't know anyone that was going beside you two…"

"Um…" Katie glanced around.

"KATIE!" A voice interrupted her.

"LeAnn??"

Katie's friend from Hogwarts stood before her. LeAnn Roberts wore a strappy red dress and a grin, her blonde hair in ringlets. Jacquelyn and Oliver looked slightly lost. Katie introduced everyone and then backed against the wall, feeling slightly winded. Wood chatted with LeAnn for a couple of minutes before turning back to his date.

"You alright?" he asked good naturedly.

"I'm a little overwhelmed," she admitted, ducking behind him to avoid being seen by Kingsley Shacklebolt; she was suddenly embarrassed of the editorials she had been publishing in the _Prophet._

"Well come on, then. Let's get you a drink."

She sighed. "I can't. I have to find some bloke for Jaq…"

He glanced back at her friend. "She's talking to LeAnn now…maybe they can scour the room themselves."

He smiled. "Come on, Katie. Please relax."

She smiled slightly and took his arm. "Thanks, Ol," she said.

Wood walked her over to a table near the front that held a placard that read "Reserved."

"I bumped into Ange," he explained. "George saved this table for us."

"Oh good," she said slightly breathlessly as he pulled out her chair.

"Just sit down, I'll go get us some drinks. Want anything in particular?"

"Just something with alcohol."

She rubbed her temples as Wood disappeared into the crowd.

A couple of minutes later, Alicia and Michael joined her, along with Charlie Weasley.

"Hi, Katie," Charlie smiled.

Out of nowhere, Angelina plopped down.

"Have you _seen_ who Lee's with?" she asked abruptly. She was in a silky olive green halter-top dress and her hair which was normally in braids, was loose and straightened, loose ringlets at the bottom.

"No, I haven't seen him…"

"He's with some _blonde_ girl. Blonde, Katie!"

"Hey," Alicia said, offended.

"Bugger off, Alicia," Ange snapped. "What does he mean by it, seriously??"

"I don't know, Johnson, maybe that he's dating?" Oliver had returned. He sat down next to Katie and pushed a martini over toward her. She had never been so happy to see him in her life. He put his arm around her shoulder and began talking quidditch to Charlie and Michael. Soon, Ange joined in, Lee forgotten.

Katie sat quietly, sipping her drink, trying to ignore that through the din of the crowds, silence prevailed; a silence which came in place of _him_. In place of Fred Weasley, who should have been there that night. Whose name was on the tip of everyone's tongue, but which remained behind teeth due to painful propriety. She knew, now, what George meant about expecting him to be there. About seeing him in the corner of her eye, about hearing his laugher, or catching his scent. The lights dimmed, and everyone fell silent in expectation; she looked up, expecting him, and seeing nothing.

XxX

**So kind of a filler chapter…I meant to go through the whole opening ceremony, but it got to be so long that I just ended it. Next chapter, I PROMISE, will finally be what you've been waiting (so long) for. I apologize. I've had severe writers' block, as evidenced by these last two lackluster chapters. But I have a feeling the next one will be good. We'll see.**


	18. The Opening Ceremony

The room was soon in complete darkness but for the small fireworks in the center of the tables, and the crowd hushed

**A/N: Thank you everyone, for reviewing & voting. The response was pretty absolute: all against JKR's botched ending, versus a couple that were indifferent. Therefore, goodbye canon! On with the show! Please continue to review though…! Cheers.**

The room was soon in complete darkness but for the small fireworks in the center of the tables, and the crowd hushed. Katie felt her curiosity peak in spite of herself. She could hear Michael rocking back and forth in his chair; he had always been afraid of the dark. She rolled her eyes. It had just reached the point of uncomfortable silence when out of nowhere dozens upon dozens of fireworks shot out of the bottom of the makeshift stage, flew through the air, and formed into a giant W. Many others crackled and popped throughout the air, many taking on the shape of various creatures. A dragon illuminated near Professor McGonagall and as she stood up to escape it, it flew between her legs, knocking her backward onto her chair. Wood roared with laughter as Katie collapsed into helpless laughter on his shoulder. One whizzed past Alicia's head, causing her hair to fly in all directions and as Angelina opened her mouth wide in laughter, it flew straight into her mouth where it was extinguished instantly. Nearby, Mrs. Weasley was waving her purse at a stubborn firework which seemed to want nothing more than to roost on top of her head. Katie could hear Grandpa Artemis cursing loudly in the background, but by now she was so overcome by her laughter and tears that she could no longer care.

As the silver W faded out, the crowd roared with applause, and there was a burst of smoke as Lee, Ron, and George suddenly appeared on stage. The applause only grew more wild and it was a full five minutes before any of them could speak.

"Well!" boomed George. "What have we here, little brother? Lee?"

Lee pretended to squint in the distance.

"I see the Minister of Magic, he's looking supremely less regal after that firework ran off with his hat!" Lee shouted, to wild applause. Kingsley laughed good naturedly and waved.

"And Professor McGonagall!" continued George. "Professor Minerva McGonagall, everyone, they must have _exhumed_ her!"

There were gasps of shocked laughter, but a smirk seemed to be tugging at the steel corners of McGonagall's mouth.

"I see my mother!" Ron shouted. "Hi, Mum!"

"You _would_," George said, rolling his eyes to yet more laughter.

"I see my date!" Lee shouted. "Wave to the people, Astrid, give 'em what they want!"

A spotlight suddenly appeared and shifted toward a tall strawberry blonde in a rather revealing little black dress. She waved, and Angelina crossed her arms in a huff.

"And mine!" George yelled as the spotlight shifted to Ange, who immediately unfolded her arms, pretending to be quite gracious. Katie scoffed and rolled her eyes, and Wood poked her.

"And mine!" Ron shouted. The spotlight jiggled, and flew wildly around the room until finally landing on Mrs. Weasley about thirty seconds later. The room roared with laughter and applause as Ron looked rather put out, flicked his wand, and caused the spotlight to land on Hermione, who blushed.

"Seriously, seriously, though folks…we are _so_ glad you made it all out tonight," George said, stepping forward from the trio and conjuring a microphone out of nowhere. "We've got quite a show planned for you tonight, haven't we Lee?"

"That's right, George," Lee answered. "And our goal by the end of the night is…well, why don't you tell the people, Ron?"

"The goal is by the end of the night that—"

"No one in the room will have a scrap of dignity left!" George said, cutting to the finish and shoving Ron back to the back of the stage to more laughter. "Especially my kid brother, without whose dedicated support this would have never been possible. So let's give it up for Ronald Weasley, ladies and gentlewizards, before I get the opportunity to take more of the mickey out of him shall we?"

The room applauded and Ron's classic Weasley ears turned bright red.

George let the applause die down before speaking again.

"Now the idea of tonight is to get you all excited about this brand new line of products we have coming out this season, so you'll all rush up eager to spend your money so that we all can become rich and retire at the age of twenty-five, so without further ado, we'd like to start with a little addition to our snackbox line, the Pranking Pasties! And first up in this collection is a personal favorite, the Knicker Nutroll. Now, we've picked on Ron enough this evening so if I could ask for a volunteer…"

Several dozen hands shot up and George picked on a small boy who could be no more than twelve, who raced up to the stage. The boy popped the sweet into his mouth, and crowd burst into more laughter as the boy's face began to change and George explained what was happening. Katie's smile grew dimmer as she watched George. He was definitely on top of things tonight; his classic comedic timing in effect, his effortless ability to make people laugh was not lost. But she could see, as only a friend could, that it was all very much contrived, and that his eyes did not have the bright quality they did at school when one of his pranks worked out exactly as he had planned. She exchanged a wistful glance with Alicia, who nodded, knowing her friend's train of thought.

The evening continued with more displays and more jokes; Harry Potter had inadvertently digested a Farting Fancy and was erupting regularly every five minutes. Ginny looked slightly horrified, but in good spirits. Grandpa Artemis was persuaded to roll his wheelchair onstage and try a Jigging Jelly through his coughing, which caused him to leap out of his chair and perform a full Irish jig, much to Elizabeth and Alicia's dismay.

Wood was called on stage amid squeals and cheers to try a Narcoleptic NumNum, perfect, George said, for getting you out of those dawn quidditch practice pep talks at Hogwarts. Oliver immediately dropped to the floor and was left sleeping for a full fifteen minutes, drooling out of the corner of his mouth as more volunteers simply stepped over him to try more products.

"Wha happened?" Wood asked stupidly as he took his place beside Katie when he finally awoke. Katie just smiled and patted his back, and ten minutes later, he collapsed on the table into another sleep. Ron rushed down from the stage to assure Katie that the pill would wear off within the next hour. She thanked him and thought a little demonically that she was grateful to be left on her own the rest of the evening. George's face along with Fred's conspicuous unnoted absence weighed heavily in the back of her mind and refused to let some of her inhibitions subside.

Mrs. Weasley had just laughingly demonstrated a fake wand, and told stories of her frustration with them to huge amount of applause when Wood woke up and subsequently fell back asleep, and Katie stood up to escape to the bathroom. She needed air; a break from the endless laughter, bright colors, and whirling images. But she stopped as she suddenly heard a silence fall over the crowd. She turned around to see George, simply holding a framed photo of Fred and himself in front of their shop the day the two brothers purchased it. Katie recognized it immediately. It had hung in the office of the shop from the day the twins went in business. She slowly sat back in her chair.

Ron wept freely behind George, while Lee looked unusually solemn. George simply stood, holding up the picture. Not in any special way, he just stood. He lifted it a little higher, his face tightened and jaw set resolutely. His voice faltered when he finally spoke.

"This night is for my brother," he said. "Everything. It's all for Fred."

And he stood like that for a while longer amid silence, until he finally lowered the picture, his arms hanging by his sides. Katie's stomach ached. She wanted tears to come, but they would not. Michael quickly shifted his chair, one hand on Alicia's back (who was crying softly) so that he was sitting next to his sister, eyes peering into hers. She stubbornly refused to meet his gaze, but looked instead fixedly up at George. She wanted to run up to the stage and catch him in her arms and never let him go. Mrs. Weasley appeared to be wanting the very same thing, as Arthur was forcibly restraining her from leaving her seat.

"That's it," George said finally. "That's it."

The silence was devastating, until in the back, faithful Grandpa Artemis rose and put his hands together. The echo of his clapping was loud and forceful, and very solitary, but soon all around the room, witches and wizards stood up and joined in his applause. From on stage, Lee clapped hard and loud, and so did Ron, through his tears. George's mouth formed a small "o", and his eyes met Katie's as she too finally rose from her chair, one tear glistening on her cheek and he smiled at her, and held the picture back up into the air, throwing it up with force for everyone in the room to see. Throngs of people rushed the stage, lifting George up on their shoulders, George thrusting the picture as high up as his arms could possibly reach. The noise was deafening.

George was passed through the crowd until, winding back near the front, he leaped down and crossed the room to where Katie stood, still at her seat, and threw his arms around her in a giant hug. She laughed slightly, clasping onto him until her nails dug into his back and they both began to cry.

Suddenly, lights began to flash and breaking bulbs announced the arrival of the press. Looking up shocked and hurt, Rita Skeeter stood, a devilishly pleased grin on her face and quick quotes quill in hand. The crowd backed up, unsure of what to do. Many unhappy faces leered in. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Oliver awoke, surveyed the situation, and without thinking, punched the nearest photographer in the jaw. He continued this, and turned, raising his eyebrow at Skeeter who took her cue and left in a huff. People cheered as Wood grinned bashfully at his newfound audience, suddenly swooned, and then fell into a heap, asleep once more. His fan girls immediately descended around him, but Katie leapt forward, pulled out her wand, and sent a Tickling Charm at the mass.

"I have to protect my date," she said amid laughter and tears, and good cheer was again restored to the party.

"To Fred!" roared George, holding up the nearest glass of champagne he could reach.

.

"To Fred!" the crowd bellowed back. Katie grabbed someone's butterbeer and downed the entire thing, and the audience again erupted into a large and deafening applause

Katie gazed out across the room with blurred vision. The crowd was an odd mixture of people. Old and young, male and female, some covered in feathers from various prank sweets, others with wild hair, and some even with scorch marks from the fireworks. _It was odd_, Katie thought as Angelina and Alicia joined her laughing through their tears, and Lee, George, Michael, and Charlie appeared behind them, _but it was exactly the kind of people Fred would have wanted there_.


	19. Nightmares

People lingered for far too long, in Katie Bell's opinion

People lingered for far too long, in Katie Bell's opinion. She wished to Godric that they would just leave so that she could have time alone with her friends. That was what she needed right now. The mixed emotions of the evening had left her drained of all her energy, and she was currently hiding in a darker corner with Michael and Alicia. Her brother was attempting to enchant her friend with stories of his time at Hogwarts which were dubiously truthful at best. As far as Katie could remember, Michael had never skived off Transfiguration only to fly past the window on his broomstick and be far too speedy for McGonagall to catch him with a suspension charm. She was far too tired to protest, however, and judging by Alicia's doubtful expression, she figured her friend was sifting the truth from the lies quite well by herself.

Most of the people who were leaving had small children that would be off to Hogwarts early in the morning tomorrow. Seeing the children and teenagers rush the makeshift cash register with their purchases to take to Hogwarts wrenched a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach as she remembered Fred talking excitedly about all the new products he would be trying out on the students when he got back to Hogwarts. She had witnessed so many of the creations of the products that were now being rung up by Ron, Charlie, George, and Bill and which would be brought to Hogwarts the next day. It seemed like centuries ago that she was on that platform herself, waving down the twins and laughing at the top of her lungs as they barely caught the train and Fred had kissed her quite unabashedly, causing her to turn red. They would never be going back to Hogwarts now. No more laughing or plotting in the wee hours of the morning in the common room. No more sneaking down to the kitchens for a midnight snack. No more ice skating on the Black Lake where Fred pushed her down and laughed. There would be no more falling asleep and drooling on his shoulder during one of Wood's dawn practices. They would never play quidditch together again. The unfairness of it all, the lump that was growing in her throat was almost more than Katie could stand. She gripped the window sill she was leaning against and took several deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" asked Michael, who had suddenly noticed his sister's condition.

"Yes," she lied almost breathlessly. "I'll be back, I should probably take Oliver home."

Wood was currently fast asleep under one of the tables. She wondered if a portion of the Draught of the Living Dead had been put in that sweet; Wood looked utterly useless, almost like another of the decorations about the room.

"D'you know where Puddlemore House is?" her brother inquired, referring to the quidditch house in which Wood lived with the rest of his team.

"No…I guess I don't…"

Michael looked concerned, and turned from Alicia to take Katie by the shoulders. "I'll take him home," he said. "You should sit down."

But Katie shook her head stubbornly, gaze fixed steadfastly at the floor. "I need to get out of here," she said. "I need some air…"

Her brother just nodded and gave her directions. Katie crawled under the table and shook Oliver, but it did no good. She sighed and drew out her wand, bewitching his weight to that of a feather.

"I'll be back," she promised again as Alicia just nodded. She took Wood out into the cool night air, took a deep breath and disapperated quickly to just outside Wood's quarters.

Puddlemore House was a large building of brick, ivy wound around the front. Small lights were blinking at the top floors, looking warm and inviting. Blurred through her vision, Katie allowed herself to reconstruct the scene to one at Hogsmeade, Fred holding her hand, running through the village excitedly as the lights from the thatched cottages blinked in the distance. She opened her eyes again, and Puddlemore House returned to her view. She shook her head, and pushed open the door.

Katie recognized some of Wood's mates from Puddlemore he had previously introduced her to, and, saying minimal, carried Oliver up to where his teammates said he slept. Wood's room was small but neat. A desk in the corner held a chiquely designed lamp, under which he had a framed picture of the day Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. Harry was on Fred and George's shoulders, the cup held high above his head. Katie and Angelina and Alicia were embracing Wood not far behind. Katie looked away from her photographed self to the other things pinned up near Wood's desk. She found several photos of Puddlemore, some newspaper clippings of editorial about the team, and, to her surprise, several of her own articles. Katie flushed and turned her attention to getting Wood to bed. He was still dressed in his good clothes. She frowned and summoned some pajamas from his dresser which stood near the desk. She smiled a little to herself as she saw that they were Puddlemore colors. She muttered a quick spell which replaced Wood's clothing, and hung up the sweater and corduroys in his closet.

Katie lifted Wood, drawing down his covers and laid him down, removing her lightening charm. She covered him and drew up the chair to his desk, smoothing out his hair. She smiled sadly.

"My first first-date in three years and you fall asleep on me," she laughed ruefully. She stayed for a while longer, unsure of why, running her hands through Wood's short dark hair.

"Sleep well," she finally whispered, leaning down and placing the smallest of kisses on his forehead. "Thanks for protecting me tonight."

Katie replaced his chair, left a quick note explaining what had happened in case he forgot, and let herself out.

XxX

The clouds in the night sky threatened rain. Katie decided she wouldn't mind. She strolled Diagon Alley, having decided not to go in until everyone else had left. She did not want to see Michael or Alicia or Lee or Angelina or Ron or any of the other Weasleys; did not even want to see her family. She wanted to sit near George and say nothing. And she knew, somehow, that he would be in there insisting to be by himself that night.

"Good job tonight," she whispered up at the night sky. "We miss you a lot down here."

And she strolled down the darkness of Diagon Alley, wiping the smallest of tears from the corner of her eye.

XxX

It was almost one in the morning when Katie found her way back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She didn't bother to knock, just let herself in with the key George kept underneath the doormat. The store was completely dark, confetti and other items still littered the floor, and she could barely see by the small light from the flat above the store. She sincerely hoped that Lee had gone home with his date so that she would find George on his own. She needed his silent presence or else to be alone completely.

Katie climbed the stairs listlessly, trying hard to fight off remembrance of Fred carrying her piggy-back and running up the stairs to show her all of the premises he and George had bought. She shook her head, shaking the echoes of laughter that still seemed to haunt the room.

She found George on his own as she had hoped, untying his violently colored bowtie.

"Hey, Kay," he said, seeing her approach in the mirror he was facing. He seemed unsurprised she had come back. "How's Wood?"

"Still asleep," she answered, sitting down on George's bed and removing her heels. She massaged her feet, remembering why she hated heels. "I put him back in bed and left a note."

George nodded. "Sorry about that," he answered guiltily, now removing his own shoes and tossing them carelessly at the closet.

Katie shrugged. George turned around holding up a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

"Cheers?" he asked, grinning at her. Katie had to laugh.

"You saved some," she stated.

"I thought you might want to get completely plastered," he smirked. "'Cause I sure as hell do."

She smiled sadly, standing up to help him with it. "Oh George, you did so great tonight. I was so jealous…you performed so perfectly. And I was just a lump of…well…"

"You were a ball of emotions like you always are," George supplied, attempting to be cheerful.

Katie laughed, admitting that this was probably true.

"Don't blame you, though," George said, quietly. She looked up at her friend, face distressed and lowered the corkscrew she was holding.

George slinked his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She hugged him back tightly, burying her face in his shaggy ginger hair. They didn't say anything, just held each other for a while without tears.

"Come now, let's have a drink," George said firmly, and he poured the liquid into both glasses.

XxX

An hour later, Katie and George were lying side by side on the floor laughing, Katie's head at George's feet and George's head at hers, hips parallel.

"You should have seen the look on Ron's face when the spotlight landed on your mother!" Katie crowed. "It was priceless!"

George laughed until his whole body shook. "I know!" he shouted. "It was completely spur of the moment, but it was brilliant wasn't it?? Fred would've liked that…"

Katie hummed and the two fell back into silence.

"So how was your date with Wood?" George asked politely, though there was a slight hint of coldness in his voice.

Katie sighed. "I don't think I'll be dating again anytime soon," she admitted, more to herself than to George.

"How come?"

"I'm just…" she sighed. "I love your brother still, George. Whether he's here or not. I can't help that. I can't think of anyone else right now. I just can't. It's too hard…to try and move on…"

They both avoided intoning the word "yet," which they knew logically should follow. It was silent for another five minutes before George finally asked, "Katie…do you think you'll ever fall in love again?"

Her face crumpled, and she wanted very much to say yes, but it seemed impossible. "No," she whispered quietly, fingering the small silver band on her left hand.

"Why not?" he asked, passing her the half empty bottle which she took.

"I…look, it just doesn't happen twice."

They were silent for a minute before George reached out and took her hand, their fingers curled into each other's.

"How do you do it?" she asked, almost inaudibly. "When the pain seems to just consume you entirely. When you don't think you can get out of bed another damned day when he's not there?"

George thought and then answered, "I just do. I get out of bed every day, and I remind myself to breathe. And I remind myself to eat. And remind myself to try and laugh. Until I don't have to remind myself to breath, or to eat, or to laugh."

"You're so much stronger than I am," she mused.

"No, I'm not. I'm a shell, Kay. I died the same day he did. I'm just still here."

The sadness in George's voice caused Katie's heart to hurt and her mouth to burn. She let the bottle fall, the wine spilling out into her hair. Neither of them said anything, just waited until the candle that lit the room died down and darkness consumed them both.

XxX

"_Fred??" Katie called wildly, running at breakneck speed down the Armory Hall. The tapestry flew beneath her feet as she leaped over the bricks that were strewn over the floor from the wall that had just collapsed. She had been dueling in the East Wing when she heard the explosion. "Bloody hell, Fred where are you?! Something's just happened!"_

_The fear in her heart escalated the faster she ran, and she heard voices behind her. She held her wand in front of her, eyes darting wildly back and forth searching for any sign of the redhead as curses rebounded off the walls and narrowly missed hitting her. _

"_FRED!!"_

_She took a narrow turn through a secret passageway. The light was almost completely extinguished in the hallway and she could barely see. She could feel the tears stinging her face, the fear almost paralyzing as she sped on, desperate for any sign of Fred she could find. She just had to make sure he was okay…hadn't he come here when he had been separated from herself and George?_

"_Fred!"_

_She could barely keep the alarm from her voice, tears flowing freely now as she sprinted down the hall. "Where are you??"_

_Katie had not seen it before she tripped, had not seen the pair of feet slightly protruding from behind a suit of armor. But she hit it and fell, hitting the floor hard. In cold terror, she looked behind her, scrambling up to her knees. She recognized those beat-up trainers…_

"_Fred?" she whispered, dangerously afraid. "Fred?"_

_She crawled nearer, making herself peer around the suit of armor._

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

_His body fell into her arms, glassy eyes staring above, the ceiling reflected. She felt her whole body revolt, as though every bit of life in her were leaving it as she screamed. She shook Fred violently, screaming at him to wake up, just wake up. She forced herself behind the armor with him, burying her head in his chest, screaming, then gripping his face in her hands._

"_Wake up, wake up, just wake up!!"_

_But she'd known before she'd seen that he wasn't waking up. She let out a cry of agony that she thought would fill the whole castle, every fiber of her life flying out as she cried out._

"_Help, help! Someone!" she cried pitifully. "Someone, help us!"_

_She collapsed into his chest in gut-wrenching sobs, ones that racked her entire body, digging her fingernails into his skin._

"_He's DEAD, silly girl!" cried a cruel, crackling voice behind her. Katie, barely aware of anything else around her, looked up. _

_Bellatrix Lestrange stood above her, a grin on her pale face. She was spinning a wand in her hand._

"_Look what we have here, Rookwood," she said to a tall hooded man emerging from around the corner. "A lover, I think. Look at her ring."_

_  
She sneered. "Shall we kill her?"_

_Katie looked up at the pair of them, feeling nothing. Certainly not fear. Rookwood raised his wand._

"_No, wait," Bellatrix said, gripping his arm and lowering it. "Let us have her live…it is certainly much more cruel this way. To live life without dear Freddie. Yes, I think that is the thing to do…"_

_Rookwood looked dubious, but followed Lestrange as she cackled and continued down the hall. Something stirred inside Katie, a panic._

"_No, wait!" she cried out wildly, not knowing what she was saying. "Kill me! Kill me, please, please, please kill me! Please!" She threw herself out desperately, clinging to Bellatrix's ankles. "Don't let me live, I don't want to LIVE!!"_

_She sobbed into the carpet, digging her nails into them. "Don't let me live!"_

_Bellatrix just laughed, kicking Katie from her, disappearing with Rookwood through a passageway to the left._

_Katie sobbed, climbing blindly back to Fred, digging his wand out of his pocket not knowing what she was doing but fearing she could not control her desire to die._

"_Katie!" A voice was shouting from down the hall. It was Minerva McGonagall's._

"_Godric Gryffindor!" the old woman shouted, many Weasleys following closely behind her, Andromeda Bell at their heels._

_Katie could barely make out the screams of Mrs. Weasley, George's shouting, Ginny's sobs…they echoed off the walls. McGonagall grabbed her around the waist, pulling her from Fred._

"_NOOOOOOOO!" she screamed, violently kicking and flailing. She pulled from McGonagall, wildly, desperately, clawing to get back to Fred._

_Andromeda rushed ahead, grabbing her daughter from the Transfiguration professor and clinging her to her. "Katie!" she yelled sharply, grabbing both her wand and Fred's wand from her daughter and flinging them across the hall. "Katie!"_

_Katie looked up into her mother's blue eyes and collapsed into sobs before she passed out entirely._

_XxX_

"FRED!!" Katie screamed in the dark, madly reaching out. "FRED!!"

George whipped right awake, looking around wildly.

"FRED!!"

Breathlessly, George crawled over to where his friend was screaming in her sleep and grabbed her to him. "Katie!" he shouted, shaking her. "Katie, wake up!"

"_FRED!!_"

"Katie, Katie, it's George! Wake up, Katie, wake up!"

She fought against him, her nails scratching him, her legs flinging in all directions. He pinned her down to the ground and smoothed her face with his hands.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," he pleaded with her, "Wake up, wake up, wake up…"

Katie's green eyes snapped open, staring at George wildly, confused. She was breathing heavily, sweat drenching her face.

"_George_," she whispered urgently, throwing her arms around him. She was quivering violently. "George!"

"I know, I know, I know," he whispered into her ear, holding her back and stroking her hair. "Just try to calm down now, try to calm down."

She cried into his shoulder silently, slowing ceasing her shaking. He continued to hold her until she stopped completely and just buried her face into his chest, making small noises of hurt.

George rocked her back in forth, his eyes upturned to the ceiling. He kissed her fiercely on the temple.

"I don't know how to get you out of this one," he whispered, still rocking her, rocking her. He tightened his grip around the girl, kissing her again.

"I don't know how to get you out of this one."

XxX


	20. Morning After

Katie cracked open one eye cautiously, and then the other. She remembered very little about the previous night, and had only a vague recollection of why she was waking up in a wine-stained cocktail dress on the floor of the flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She realized she had been upset about something, though she couldn't recall what.

"George?" she called guardedly, sitting halfway up and leaning on one elbow. "George, are you there?"

Katie rubbed her temples, trying to will her eyes to focus. The sunlight in the room seemed particularly bright.

"George?" she called again, wishing desperately that he would answer. "Where are you??"

"Here, Kates!" George called cheerfully, striding through the door with a tray of breakfast in his arms. He was already showered and in bright lime green shop robes.

"Oh Godric, no," Katie moaned when she spotted the breakfast tray. "I _am_ going crazy, aren't I?"

"No," George answered, amused. "I actually _am_ doing something nice for you. Shocking for me, I know."

Katie furrowed her brows, trying to assimilate all the things that were happening.

"Did I drink too much last night?" she asked finally, her eyes resting on an empty bottle of wine at her feet.

George smirked. "For you, you did."

Katie flopped out again on the floor.

"Oh, no," George said smilingly, setting down the tray of breakfast on the nearest bed. "Up we go." He grabbed Katie under her arms and helped hoist her up to her feet.

"I need a shower," she muttered under her breath. "I'm disgusting."

"Alright," he agreed, leading her to the bathroom which was connected to the bedroom. "You obviously need something a little stronger than orange juice. Why don't you wash up while I go fix you something? I dropped by your flat earlier and picked up some of your work clothes."

"Merlin, no!" Katie gasped, searching wildly for a clock. "I'll be late! Hudson will have my ass…"

"It's only eight," George said soothingly, now slightly pushing her into the shower. "You have an hour, it will be plenty of time."

"But I always get there early…"

"Just go, Kay."

"But—"

George shut the door firmly against her protests.

Katie sighed and buried her face in her hands. _What had happened to her last night? She remembered taking Wood back to his flat…and she remembered coming back to see George, and sharing a bottle of wine. Then she fell asleep. She must have had a bad night. Poor George for having to take care of her…_

Katie tried to shake herself alert, and peeled off the dress and stepped into the shower. She yanked the faucet to cold, attempting to shock herself sober. The cool water ran down her back as she cupped her face into her hands and took several deep breaths.

Nothing seemed to help, however, until several minutes later when George reappeared with a glass of something thick and odiferous.

"What is that?" Katie groaned, drying her hair with a towel.

"Don't ask," George said holding it out to her. "But it will cure anything you got."

Katie quirked an eyebrow at George. "I'm not going to turn into a parrot, am I?" she asked cautiously.

"No," he promised, smirking. "Or any other feathered animal."

"If you say so," she said, and pinched her nose and downed the nocuous substance.

"Bloody hell, George, what is in that??" Katie grasped at her throat and made several gagging noises.

The redhead just smiled and held out a chair for her. Katie sat and began eating the eggs George had placed in front of her.

"Don't you have a shop to run?" Katie asked, her mouth full of eggs.

George smiled at her bemusedly and said, "Ron's down there. Most of the kiddies are off to Hogwarts now which is our main profit center, so the traffic hasn't been too heavy. Sold about a thousand galleons worth of stuff last night, though."

"That's great, George!" Katie said happily, feeling back to herself immediately after the disgusting concoction the redhead had given her.

He smiled faintly. "Yeah, it is," he answered. "Listen, Kay, are you…okay? You, er, kind of had a rough night…"

She frowned. "Did I?"

"Nothing too bad," he said, immediately backpedaling. "I just thought maybe you were having a bad dream."

"I don't remember anything," she answered truthfully. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, no," George said dismissively, but his brows were furrowed and Katie got the impression that he wasn't telling the full truth.

They finished breakfast without much other conversation and Katie combed out her hair and grabbed her bag.

"Thanks, George," she said, rather quietly. "For everything, I mean. I don't know what I said…or didn't say…last night, or what really happened, but…thanks for taking care of me." She smiled weakly.

George grinned back at her. "Don't worry about it, Bell," he smirked. "I'm used to cleaning up your messes. Now get off to work, and don't say another word to me."

He held out his arms for her to hug him but as she entered his embrace, almost as if a reflex, Katie stepped onto her tiptoes and pecked him very lightly and very quickly on the lips.

Katie immediately gasped at her actions; her hand flew to her mouth and she backed away. George's eyes grew extremely wide, and he continued to stare at her.

"I'm so sorry, George," she blurted, turning around and dashing out the door. "I'm so sorry, I—I'm not sure what I was thinking." And she ran down the stairs, barely waving to Ron before rushing out onto the street.

Katie knew what she had been thinking, however. She had been thinking he was Fred.

XxX

Katie entered her building at a quarter till the hour, and rushed back to her cubicle. Jacquelyn handed her a cup of coffee, wordlessly grinning from ear to ear.

"What?" Katie asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Nothing, nothing," she hummed, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Just wait till you see your desk."

Katie suspiciously took the mug and rounded the corner. On her desk was a large bouquet of daisies in a light blue vase, a card dangling from the corner. She frowned as she sipped the coffee, set the mug down, and picked up the card to investigate.

"It's from Oliver Wood!" Jacquelyn said, unable to bear the wait. "You should read it, it's _so _cute."

"You read the card?" Katie asked incredulously. Jacquelyn blushed. "Well, it was sort of open…"

Katie laughed and rolled her eyes as she opened the small card.

_Katie,_

_You must think I'm the absolute worst escort to have ever taken you out, and I can't blame you. Just know that the narcolepsy was not my choice, and that had I been fully conscious, there's no way I would have let you see the disaster that is my flat. I'm just glad none of the team was naked. I hope these flowers make it up to you—I'll see you soon! Sooner than you might think._

_Love, _

_Oliver_

"What--?" Katie barely had the time to let her lips form the word when a small pop startled her, and Oliver Wood appeared on her desk, grinning.

"So?" he asked. "What did you think?" He was clearly pleased with himself, but was looking just the tiniest bit skittish.

"Very smooth, Ol," Katie laughed, rolling her eyes. "The almost-giving-me-a-heart-attack bit was a nice touch."

"Sorry," he apologized, laughing. "I just wanted to let you know the degree of my sincerity."

"Well, I've got it noted. Could you, um, maybe get off my desk? I've got work to do."

"Oh. Sure, no problem." He slid off easily and leaned against the barrier that separated her desk from Jacquelyn's. Someone squealed.

"Have you got a porker hiding about?" Wood asked bemusedly, peering over the top of the barrier.

"It's just Jaq," Katie answered dully. "She thinks you're attractive."

"Katie!" Jacquelyn protested as she popped up from behind the wall.

"Sorry," she answered without looking up.

"So, Katie," Wood began as she started filing through the various papers on her desk. "Are you okay? I mean, you're not too awfully mad at me are you?"

He looked pathetic in a cute kind of way, standing against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Katie smiled.

"No, Wood, I'm not mad at you. Not at all, actually."

"Really?" he asked, face breaking into a grin. "That's great—because my flatmates said you were looking pretty upset."

"I think they were having a go with you," she answered. "The twi—I mean George likes to have a laugh with everyone. You were popular."

Wood laughed uncomfortably and scratched his head, messing his light brown hair. "Er—yeah," he said. "I don't remember much about that."

She smiled.

"But um…you wouldn't be free for lunch, would you? I mean, so I can make it up to you?"

"The flowers more than make up for it, Ol. Thanks."

"But…what if I just want to see you?"

She sighed. "I don't know…I think last night was kind of a one time thing."

His face fell. "You _are_ upset."

"No, no, Oliver, I promise I'm not. I'm just not…ready yet. I'm sorry. I thought I was, but I'm not." Katie looked at him apologetically. He just nodded.

"Okay, Katie," he said. "That's okay."

"Oliver, I really am sorry—"

"Don't worry about it, Bell. I'll see you around."

Wood turned the corner and was gone with a pop. Katie watched him go with mixed feelings.

XxX

George was listless as he restocked boxes of fake vomit on the shelves of his shop. There had been a pretty steady stream of customers that day, though not a large amount. The Hogwarts demographic was most of his business, and the send-away orders were bringing in most of the money, leaving fewer than normal customers to physically come to the shop.

The redhead was musing over the events of the morning, waiting for his brother to get back from his lunch break. Lee had not been seen all morning, for whatever reason, and George had not gone to the effort of contacting him. He was certain Lee had had too much to drink last night and had gone home with one of the many girls he'd been with.

_Why had Katie kissed him_? The thought had been buzzing around his head for the good part of the day. Certainly she had not anticipated doing it, that was clear enough, but what had accounted for it? Was it just gratitude for letting her stay the night? A reflex she had when waking up next to a bloke? Something else?

Busy with these thoughts, George barely noticed Lee walking through the shop door in his bright magenta robes.

"Er—hi," Lee began, coming up toward his friend. George jumped and nearly fell off the stool he was standing on.

"Godric, Lee, where have you been?" he asked, rather angrily. "Ron and me have been running the shop all morning. Want to give me a hand with these?"

"Sure," Lee replied, bending down and handing up boxes to George. "Um…sorry about that, mate. I was…uh…out late. With someone."

George scoffed. "I figured."

Lee looked uncomfortable. George just shook his head; he knew his friend well enough to know that whoever he had been with last night, he was certain George wouldn't approve. Lee usually dropped the names of his lovers without hesitation. _He was wrong, however_, George thought. _He couldn't care less about Lee's romances. He was sure it was probably Verity, the old shop girl. He had seen them flirting together the night before._

"It won't be like this from now on," Lee rushed on. "It was just an opportunity I figured I'd never get again, so…"

"Whatever, mate," George said dismissively. "As long as you're here now."

Lee took the hint and continued organizing the boxes.

"So, uh, you feel bad about knocking out Katie's date last night?"

George raised his eyebrows at the sound of Katie's name. "What?" he asked, momentarily confused. "Oh, no…I mean yeah. Well, I guess. She didn't really want to be with a bloke, anyway. She told me."

"She told you?"

"Yeah, she came over again last night. After everyone else left. Stayed the night."

"Oh. Poor ol' Wood. He looks like he's really into her."

"Yeah…" George trailed off.

"You okay, mate? You're acting kind of strange."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Like you're not all here. Is it just Fred, or…?"

George shrugged. "A lot of it is that," he answered. "And then…something weird happened this morning. With Katie."

"What?"

"She, um…kissed me goodbye."

"_What?_"

"Not like on purpose or anything. I don't think she meant to do it. Just a short little peck is all, and she apologized right after. Like it was a reflex she was apologizing for or something. I've been trying to figure it out."

Lee frowned. "Well," he began cautiously. "You don't think she was just used to kissing…Fred…goodbye, do you? I mean…she spent the night quite a bit with him."

"What are you saying?" George asked, his eyes narrowing.

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "I dunno, mate. Maybe she slipped or something. You _do_ look exactly alike."

"Yeah," George said, his stomach dropping and his heart hurting. "Yeah, you're probably right…"

_Of course she had been thinking of Fred. He was an idiot not to have thought of that earlier._

"Listen, mate," Lee began. "You don't still…you know…do you?"

"No," George said fervently at once. "No, not all. That was a long time ago."

XxX

Katie had just returned to her flat from work when immediately Alicia apparated into her living room, a look of pure exultation on her face.

"Alicia!" Katie screamed. "You can't just apparate into my living room! You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry," she said, without looking sorry at all. "I just have to tell you…_Angelina spent the night with Lee last night_!"

"_What_?"

"Yeah! Isn't that great?? I walked into Ange's room this morning and they were asleep in her bed together! _Cuddling_."

Katie's head hurt, and she wasn't processing the information. She did not particularly care about Lee and Angelina's romantic developments at the moment.

"Oh, wow," she answered, trying to appear surprised.

"I know!" Alicia gushed. "Isn't that _great_? Now they'll finally stop attacking each other every five minutes! I _knew_ this was gonna happen, I just knew it!"

Katie tried to smile.

"Wanna come tease them with me?" Alicia asked excitedly.

"Um…no thanks, Al. I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Call it a night?" Alicia asked, crestfallen. "But it's only eight-thirty!"

"Yeah, I know. I'm just tired, that's all. You have a good night though, okay?"

"Okay," Alicia answered, looking at her friend curiously. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Uh, maybe. Yeah, yeah, tomorrow. I'll visit Michael and Grandpa. Michael _is_ back in the hospital, right?"

"Yeah," Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "But I can't get him to stay in his room. He keeps popping in and out, scaring the little kids."

Katie smiled and gave her friend a hug before Alicia disapparated.

Katie slowly changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth before collapsing on her bed. Hot tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she did not allow them to progress. She wasn't going to be that girl; she wasn't going to be that girl that couldn't be happy for her friends because she herself had nothing. She wouldn't do that. Katie switched off the light and fell asleep as the darkness engulfed the small bedroom.


	21. St Mungo's Hospital

**A/ N: Thank you for the reviews, everyone! They always make my day. For this chapter, I decided I wanted to focus on some other points of view that haven't had a lot of attention yet. This time, I chose Alicia. Mostly because I love her, but also because I wanted to include just a bit more of Michael. –Grins- Enjoy! And as always, read & review!**

"Aliciaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Alicia Spinnet could hear Michael Bell barreling loudly down the hall, swatting at the walls with the oak cane he was supposed to be using to walk. Alicia felt the tug of a half smile play at the corner of her lips as he shouted her name again.

"Alicia Anne! Where are you?? I need a sponge bath!"

Michael Bell had healed from his injuries quite a bit sooner than anyone had predicted, and although with a referral to the hospital administrators Alicia probably could have secured him an early release, she had chosen to keep him the customary week's time. This meant that he was usually bored and came to her for entertainment, but Alicia didn't mind so much. She might go as far as to say she rather enjoyed the tall, lanky seeker's company.

"So here you are," announced his entrance. He stood in the doorway of the supply closet where she was stamping the release papers of a dozen or so patients, arm resting on the door frame, head cocked to the side. "How's it going, Stampy?"

Alicia blushed and hid her face in the stack of papers as Michael lazily hopped up on one of the nearby counters. "I'm not giving you a sponge bath, Michael," she said, trying to sound stern.

"Have to," he replied, lowering the stack of papers from her face. "I'm your patient."

"You know you're perfectly able to shower yourself," she replied seriously. "Why aren't you lying down? You're supposed to be resting."

He ignored this. "You've got ink on your nose," he said casually.

"I do??" Alicia gasped, stamp in hand flying up to her face.

Michael laughed, loose chestnut brown curls bouncing. "Well, now you do. Let me get it."

He reached out his thumb and wiped the ink from the side of her nose.

"You look cute in ink, Stampy," he grinned.

Alicia blushed again. "You're not supposed to flirt with your nurse, Michael," she reminded him for the thousandth time, though not being able to repress a smile.

"Sure I am," he cheerfully retorted. "You're my baby sister's best friend. I'm supposed to pick on you when you're young, and date you once you've matured."

"Maybe I want to wait until _you've _matured, then."

"Oh, ho! That cuts to the heart, Alicia!"

She smirked and set down her clipboard. "So are you going back to quidditch as soon as you're out of here?" she asked, backing up to lean against the counter he was sitting on.

"Sure am," he replied, scooting over to allow her room. "Kenmare is hopeless rubbish without me."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "If you were so great," she drawled, "Why did Charlie Weasley play seeker for Gryffindor when you two were at school?"

"Because Charlie was rubbish at everything but seeker," Michael replied easily. "So I switched to chaser. Taught Kates everything she knows. She could play on the team too, she's good enough. But she wouldn't have any of it. Always wanted to write."

"She's good at it," Alicia pointed out.

"Oh, sure, she's damn good. But you can always waste your life away with ink and parchment _after _you've achieved international fame, you know?"

Alicia laughed. "I don't know if you're internationally famous," she pointed out.

He shook his head. "Why do you always remind me of my defects, Alicia? I'll fall back into regression because of you."

She smiled, and looked away from his friendly brown eyes.

"C'mon, 'Leesh," he begged, turning to face her. "One more date. I promise I'll be a gentleman. As soon as I get out of here, you, me, a couple of brooms…we could fly down to the coast for a day. What do you say?"

"_No_, Michael," she answered firmly. "I can't date my patients! The administration would fire me in a second."

"So we'll wait 'til after I'm out," he said reasonably. "And I'll ask you as soon as you stamp my release papers. There can't be anything wrong with that."

Alicia didn't say anything, just turned away so he wouldn't see the smile that was threatening to spread across her face.

"I _knooow_ you're keeping me in here longer than you could," he whispered, teasing as he leaned down behind her. "And I think I know why, too."

She smirked and blushed before whirling around and saying. "I need to get back to work. And you need to get to bad. Katie's coming to visit on her lunch break, and I know she'll be pissed at both of us if you aren't in bed resting."

Michael yelped. "My baby sister! The bloody terror!" And he grabbed his cane and flew out the door.

Alicia just laughed and shook her head as she grabbed her clipboard and headed out into the hall to check up on Artemis. Michael Bell. He seemed to make her laugh on days she needed it the most. Just that morning she had woken up with tears on her pillow, awaking from a memory of Hogwarts that seemed to have taken place forever ago…

XxX

_Alicia Anne Spinnet, four foot eight inches and seventy five pounds, stood knock-kneed and terrified with eyes as big as saucers at the line before her leading to the future-holding Sorting Hat, the one object that would determine her destiny for the rest of her seven years here. She wasn't so nervous at the beginning, except that as the alphabet faded there were fewer and fewer of her peers and the eyes of the older students had less to focus on. _

_Alicia hated attention. She was eleven years old and had lived her life thus far under the radar. She had managed to secure a compartment on the Hogwarts Express to herself, and had yet to speak to anyone. So far, so good. Except that as one of the last first-years, and one whose banana-peel colored blonde hair was glowing like a beacon in the candle light, and further as a Muggle-Born seeing magic—really—for the first time, she felt as conspicuous as if she hadn't been the smallest first-year in the entire group. _

_Another boy was sorted. Alicia swallowed. There were only four of them left, now. Herself, another girl with straight black hair, and two identical boys with bright red hair. Alicia felt like she was going to faint._

_The other girl was called forward, and Alicia was left with the two boys. She attempted to gain her balance, but instead nearly fell to the ground before one of the boys swooped in and grabbed her by the elbow._

"_Hi," he grinned, face covered in freckles. "My name's Fred Weasley."_

"_And I'm George Weasley," said his twin brother, instantly at her other side._

"_Are you okay?" asked the first._

_Alicia nodded, mouth hanging open. _

"_Do you have a name, maybe?" smirked Fred._

_Alicia nodded again._

"_Do you want to tell me what it is?"_

_She recollected herself. "I'm Alicia," she answered. "Alicia Anne Spinnet."_

"_Well, Alicia Anne Spinnet, it's good to know you. Merlin, the Sorting Hat is taking forever with this lass, isn't it? Me and George will be sorted in a heartbeat. We already know we're Gryffindor, don't we George?"_

_George nodded fervently._

"_Do you know what House you'll be in?" Fred asked._

_Alicia shook her head. "No idea…" she answered. "I'm a Muggle-Born."_

"_That's okay," Fred said reassuringly. "Plenty of Hogwarts kids are. You don't have to know, the Sorting Hat can always tell."_

_Alicia simply nodded, exceedingly thankful for this reassurance. She noticed George struggling to put something inside his bag._

"_We were going to slip a frog down your robes," Fred explained passingly. "But then I noticed you looked like you were going to faint, so I figured we'd better not."_

"_Actually, I told him not to," George challenged. Fred shot him a look._

"_Erm…thanks," Alicia said, not sure how to respond. "Do you two know anyone here yet?"_

"_Just our brothers…oh and Katie Bell," Fred answered, pointing out a small brunette at the Gryffindor table. "Her mum's friends with our mum."_

_Alicia nodded, recognizing her from the boat that had taken them across the Black Lake. _

"_Fred _fancies_ her," George laughed._

"_Sod off, will you?" Fred frowned. _

_The two began to scuffle and Alicia noticed the frog hop out of George's bag. She hurriedly scooped it up and was about to return it to him when she had a better idea._

"_Spinnet, Alicia!"_

_Professor McGonagall called out her name and Alicia's eyes got as big as saucers._

"_Well, good luck," Fred said as soon as he and his twin had stopped fighting. "Hope you get Gryffindor! Then we can really be friends. Remember, no fainting, or you won't get put there."_

_Alicia nodded. "Thanks," she said, reaching out for a hug._

_Fred grinned and wrapped his arms around her as she gently placed the frog down the back of her new friend's robes._

"_ARRRRRGH!"_

XxX

"Mum wants to know if you've been eating your vegetables."

"How can I eat that shit, Kates? It looks like it's already been digested."

Katie laughed. "Yeah, I told her you probably weren't. But I'll cover for you."

"Thanks, sis!"

"_Only _if you give me back my Cleansweep. You still have it from when you knicked it last summer."

"Oh, c'mon, Kates! You don't even ride anymore!"

"That's not the point, Michael!"

"Ahem?" Alicia cleared her throat as she knocked on the door. She smirked as the two bickering siblings looked up to where she stood in the doorway.

"Sorry," she apologized. "But your grandpa really wants to see you, Katie. Your aunt mentioned you'd be coming today when she was over earlier, and he's been issuing a string of swear words at me all morning demanding to know when you'd be in. And visiting hours close in half an hour…and honestly, I don't know how much longer I can take being verbally abused."

Katie and Michael both laughed. "Okay, can you tell him I'll be up in five minutes, 'Leesh? There's something I want to ask Michael about…"

Alicia nodded, and closed the door. She tucked her clipboard under her arm and climbed the stairs to where Artemis was stationed. Even if she hadn't had the room number memorized, Alicia could have found her way there by the coughing that was constantly coming from Room 312. Artemis had had a cold for about a week now, and the brief outing to the opening of George's shop two nights ago had seemed to worsen it. Still, the head healers had said, it was nothing to worry about and was probably due to a mixture of his being a very old man and a cooler than usual summer fading now into autumn.

But when Alicia entered the room, she gasped. The clipboard echoed against the white-washed walls as it dropped to the floor.

XxX


	22. Back to the Cemetery

**A/N: Judging by the fact that I've only gotten one or two reviews for the last few chapters I've posted, I'm guessing not a lot of people are reading this anymore. But that's okay, because the reviews I HAVE gotten have been really wonderful and positive. Thanks, guys. And if you have been reading, could you please **_**please**_** review? I would really appreciate it. Enjoy!**

Her mother was to the right of her, her brother to the left. The open door of the tiny church showed a beautiful autumn day; sunlight streamed into the room, casting a stark contrast with the faces of the people inside. Elizabeth Garibaldi was inconsolable, though her sister was clenching the crook of her arm attempting to ease something of the blow for both of them. Katie stared at her knees, trying to block the words Artemis's younger brother was speaking; the aged man seemed to drone on without saying anything anyone in the audience could hold on to. She was also trying to avoid her brother's face.

Neither Michael nor Katie had had much time to grieve in the four days that had passed since their grandfather's sudden death. Michael had had even less. When Alicia had burst into the white washed hospital room pale-faced with two other Healers, Katie had lost control over her body and fell into a dead faint back into Michael's reflexive arms. He had sat with her until she had awoken, and the two had quietly taken over the Bell house in the ensuing days. Their mother kept to her room, and Aunt Elizabeth refused to be reasoned with, spending the day either sobbing into her pillow or destroying her possessions.

Now, she knew, Michael was finally able to feel the effects of this loss. He was glaring very fixedly at the floor seeing nothing, eyes slightly damp, a nerve going in his tightly clenched jaw. Katie was unaware of neither whatever her brother was thinking or feeling as she thought nor felt nothing herself. The shock had not yet penetrated her being, and she was half expecting her grandfather to come limping into the church demanding his "damn hot plate."

She turned her head from where she sat in the front row to observe the other members of the audience. Two rows back was Oliver Wood, looking equally unsure of where he was and how he had gotten there. He was flanked by a few members of his quidditch team Katie recognized from her brief visit to his flat last week. His soft brown eyes were wide, and she noticed his left hand trembling slightly. Wood had dealt very little with death in his life and looked wholly unprepared for how to feel or act. Another row back was Lee, Angelina, and Alicia. Angelina had tears in eyes, though Lee, lock-jawed, had his arm firmly around her. Alicia sat on the other side of Lee as pale as a sheet, trembling. Katie knew, rather than felt that Alicia was blaming this mostly on herself.

Her eyes traveled further back to where the Weasley family sat on the back row. From their grave and reflective faces, Katie knew they were revisiting Fred's own death and her heart sank a little further. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were holding hands, Mrs. Weasley frequently dabbing her eyes and looking toward where Katie's mother sat. Next to them was Bill with his wife Fleur, both looking more grave than normal. Percy was next, looking remarkably terrified and Kate could tell his breathing was quickened. His red freckles stood out starkly on his white face. She knew that he in particular was once more thinking about his brother. George sat next to Percy, his head almost not visible as he was hunched over and staring at the floor. Ron had his hand on his brother's back and was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Katie recognized other various family members, most of their faces swirling together into a palette of black and gray. Her friends were the ones faces stood out to her in the sea of people, though most seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze. She fixed her eyes on George for a while until he lifted his head and met her gaze. They simply looked at each other for a few seconds, but Katie could feel what he was trying to impart to her: _I'm so sorry, Katie, I'm so sorry_. He swallowed visibly, tears in his eyes, and she turned back around.

Her great-uncle whom she had only met once before was still droning on. She returned her gaze to her knees, hating the dress she was wearing and everything that invariably accompanied it. This went on for another five minutes, and then she noticed her brother's knees shaking. She looked up at him, surprised, but found that he was not shaking out of some sad emotion, but of anger. He looked rather frightening; his eyes had gone dark and his hands were balled up into fists. She could not understand it. His jaw was locked tighter than ever.

"Michael," she whispered, trying to place her hand over his clenched one. But he would not have it. As soon as she touched him, Michael stood up abruptly, running his hand over his face and then stuffing both into the pockets of his black slacks. He strode out the open door into the morning, shaggy hair covering his eyes as he stared at the floor.

Katie sat shocked, until her aunt, as though seeing this as her cue, too exited the room at the back. Her mother looked surprised and then followed her sister.

Katie was left alone on the row. She took in a sharp intake of breath and turned her gaze to the front of the room. Her hands began to tremble slightly for some unexplainable reason, and she tried to steady herself by gripping onto the edges of her chair.

Two young men in the room noticed Katie's state. Oliver hovered at the edge of his chair about to get up and go to her when George suddenly strode up the aisle and sat down next to her. Wood frowned slightly and slid back in his chair.

George had not wasted a second. His head had snapped up at Michael Bell's sudden departure, and then stayed fixed on Katie as her aunt and mother also departed. He saw her shoulders begin to shake and her back tense as she gripped the sides of her chair. He immediately stood up and sidled past his family, walking briskly up the aisle until he got to her.

Katie barely noticed the novelty of George's presence as he quietly sat down next to her until he laid his hand on top of hers. Her muscles immediately relaxed and she looked up at him, one tear glistening in her eye. He did his best to smile at her as shifted closer to her and hugged her close to him with one arm. Katie felt a rush of relief as she breathed in his familiar scent, which lasted until the end of the eulogy.

XxX

Artemis Garibaldi was buried at the top of a hill overlooking a river on the property of the church he had attended as a child in Coswolds. The sun would not be dimmed and shined brilliantly, reflecting off the river. Katie stood at the back of the crowd, not wishing to be seen nor recognized. Her brother having stormed off to vent his feelings, and her mother attending to her aunt, her family was still missing. George remained next to her not saying anything, though glancing at her now and again. Katie did not wish for conversation.

The casket was lowered and people filed past, letting the handfuls of soil fall from their hands. The dirt felt cold in her hand. She was the last to drop the handful into the grave, and as she did so, she suddenly snapped.

"_What happened?_" she hissed tensely, jerking her head up to face Alicia who was standing across from her. "_What happened_?"

The circle of people grew quiet. George tried calm her. "Come on, Katie," he said quietly, but firmly. "Let's go."

He tried to take her hand, but she jerked it away. "No!" she shouted suddenly. "No, I don't want to go! I want to know _what happened_."

Lee looked uncomfortable and Angelina shifted toward Alicia protectively. "Katie…" she cautioned.

This only made her angrier. "_What_? Is that such a _wrong_ question?! He had a _cold_! He had a fucking _cold_, and now he's dead?!? How is that fair, huh? Tell me!"

"No one's saying it's fair, Katie," Lee spoke up as others began to move away uncomfortably. "It just happened. Sometimes things just happen."

"No, they don't!" Katie shouted. "Let go of me, George!" she shrieked and jerked herself away as George attempted to physically restrain her.

"_Yes_, they do," Lee urged as Angelina restrained Wood, who was looking as though he felt he needed to do something, from going to Katie.

"NO, THEY DON'T!" she shouted louder. "NOT LIKE THIS! They happen in _war_ and they happen when it's spur-of-the-moment, absurd, dangerous_ shit_. People don't die of _colds_ in _St_. _Mungo's_! What the hell happened, Alicia?!?"

She strode over to the frightened looking blonde girl who eased into Lee as Katie came within an inch of her face.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE WATCHED HIM!" she roared. "YOU SHOULD HAVE WATCHED HIM INSTEAD OF WASTING YOUR TIME FLIRTING WITH MY BROTHER! NOW HE'S DEAD, AND IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT!!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!?"

Alicia burst into tears and Lee hugged her close to him, glaring at Katie.

"It's not her fault, Katie, and you know it!" shouted Angelina angrily. "It's no one's fault! It just _happened_!"

"No, it didn't!" Katie screamed, starting to cry now. "It doesn't just happen! It has to be someone's fault!"

She felt weak in the knees, and the faces of her five friends looking both angry and scared of her frightened her. George still attempted to reason with her.

"Katie," he said quietly, coming toward her. "Katie, please…"

"NO!" she shouted again, sinking toward the ground.

"George…or Oliver…why don't you take her home?" Lee suggested quietly, but Katie heard it and was even further enraged.

"Come on, Kay, I'll take you home and you can get cleaned up, and then—"

Katie cut George off. "Leave me alone!" she shrieked. "God, you don't know when to quit, do you?!"

She turned on her heel to run away, but George grabbed her wrist, jerking her back. She turned around furiously, and mustered all of her strength before she punched him in the face and flew off down the hill, blinded by her tears.

XxX

Finally back in her room in her own flat, Katie closed the door and sank down against it, emotionally and physically spent.

"I'm never leaving this room again," she whispered. That door would never open again to allow the world of sorrow and suffering and hurt to enter her life.


	23. Alone

**A/N: Thank you so much for those of you who reviewed last chapter. Sorry that this one was a little late. I hope you all had a happy holiday season!**

George was restocking products in his shop before opening one morning when Angelina came striding through the door, allowing a burst of chilly autumn air to come in with her.

"Hi George," she said, walking boldly across the floor. "Is Lee around?"

"Yeah, he's in the back doing the books," George answered without looking back toward her.

Angelina hesitated, and George could tell she was trying to figure out how to ask him something.

She settled for, "George, it's been two weeks and Katie still hasn't come out of her room."

"Mmm," George hummed, still not facing her. He knew where this was leading and he didn't feel the need to hurry her there.

She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Have you even _tried_ to go see her?" she pressed.

George put down the last box of Knicker Nut Rolls, climbed down from the small step ladder and turned around to face her, exposing the nasty black eye that had still not healed.

"No," he said shortly, folding his arms in front of his chest and watching her wince.

"That's still pretty bad, isn't it?" Angelina said, scrunching up her nose. "You should have Alicia take a look at it."

"He won't let her," Lee answered as he strode out of the back room. "But I asked, and she gave him some mugwort for it, but says it's best to just let it heal." He walked over to where Angie was and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

George rolled his eyes and sat down on his step ladder. He involuntarily brought a hand toward his face and traced the outline of his right eye. _Great_, he thought_, Now I've got no ear and practically no eye. Just perfect._

"How is Alicia—er—lately?" George asked, fidgeting.

"Um, I think she's alright," Angelina said, glancing at Lee for his concurrence. "Michael managed to talk some sense into her, I think."

"That's good," George answered gruffly, tugging at the sleeve of his robes.

"She tried to go see Katie the other day," Angelina said in a would-be-casual voice, exchanging glanced with Lee. "But she won't see anyone. Except Michael sometimes."

George didn't answer, he just looked between them.

"We were thinking of going again tonight," Lee chipped in. "Wood's tried a couple of times, too, of course, but he hasn't had any luck either."

George simply nodded.

"We want you to come with us," Angelina suddenly said, rather bluntly. "We think she's really hurting, George."

"Usually that's a reason why people lock themselves up in their rooms," George responded coldly, standing up and again climbing the step ladder.

"_George_," she pressed. "Come on. She listens to you."

"Apparently not," was all his reply.

Angelina suddenly exploded. "George, would you quit acting like a hurt puppy?? You're being ridiculous! Do you have any idea how many times _you_ hurt _her_ while you were in that state?! And she never bailed out on you! Not once! And this is how you repay her?? When she needs you, you hide away and pretend she doesn't exist?!"

"Isn't that what she's doing to _us_?!" George snapped, whirling around. "Believe me, Ange, if I could lock myself up away from the world, I _would_! But I have a shop to run, and a life to live, and _I'm not Fred_! I don't go running after her when she decides to behave like an ass! It's not what I do!"

"You're right," Ange whispered bitterly. "It's not." And Lee took her arm cautiously and led her to the back room. George swore under his breath and turned back around.

_Self-righteous Angelina, always meddling_, he thought. Even when they were in school, she could never just let something lie without sticking her nose in. She was most of the reason he and Alicia had started dating—and look where that had gone. Alicia now wanted Michael Bell, and he wanted—well, all he really wanted anymore was to be left alone. He had even refused to comment on the fact that she and Lee were now dating. He saw that she wanted to be gratified, and he refused to do so for that very reason. And now she was pestering him again.

Why should he have to go see Katie? He wasn't her family and he wasn't Fred. Why did everyone keep forgetting that?! As if he didn't have enough to deal with already without taking someone else's misery upon himself. Besides, Katie had made it pretty clear that she didn't want him in her life anymore. He had no idea what he had been thinking previously.

And what were Ange and Lee thinking, asking him to do this?! They were happy and shagging; why should he, George, who had lost his twin brother, have to worry about Katie Bell?? No. Let them do it. He was finished with it.

George angrily kicked over his step ladder as he walked toward the cash register, frightening a small child who had just wandered in through the front door.

No one understood how alone he was. No one.

XxX

Oliver Wood had spent most of his free time sitting outside Katie Bell's bedroom door for the past couple of weeks. It wasn't normally how he would have chosen to spend his time; the white washed walls reminded him of a hospital and he was allergic to something in her carpet, but he cared about the person beyond the door. She would not yet let him in, or speak to him beyond the occasional, "OLIVER, GET OUT!" But, he still came every chance he got.

Katie's brother Michael had temporarily moved in, sleeping on the living room sofa, cooking his sister's meals and feeding her venus flytrap, Annette. He did not say much, but always let Oliver in when he came over. Today, Michael was out to lunch with Alicia, and Oliver was sitting in the hallway outside Katie's bedroom door saying nothing. He was fairly certain she did not know he was there, either because she was sleeping or because he had not yet ventured to call out to her. He was sitting, staring down at the petals of a daisy he had brought with him. He twirled the stem between his thumb and finger, frowning slightly, which caused a small crease to appear between his brows.

Wood had stepped in where George had retreated, and he knew it. If Katie had been sick, injured, or even if she had simply turned her back on the world in silence, George would be here, and not himself. Oliver did not quite understand it, and he wondered if part of the reason for Katie's resistance was that he was the wrong man. _She probably wants to see a friend and not someone who's made an arse of himself attempting to pursue her,_ he reasoned. And yet he could not help himself. He could not help caring about Katie Bell and her future, and he knew that his attraction to her was only a partial reason for this. She was kind; maybe not directly so, but it still showed. She was fiercely loyal, and at school he had known her to be relatively carefree—mischievous, almost to the point of exhaustion. He would not let her collapse in on herself like this. If he could help it, he would not.

Oliver had done all that he could think of—he had spoken to her boss, Germaine Hudson, and had secured her a temporary leave of absence, something the _Daily Prophet_ had been attempting to get her to take for a while. He came over whenever he could, and did his best to help Michael take care of her. He wasn't much of a prodigy in the kitchen, but he attempted. And so he sat, staring at the daisy he had plucked for her, wondering what more he could do.

"Katie," he said, half-hopeful and half-sighing, his Scottish accent breaking the silence. He said nothing more, and simply slid the flower through the space between the floor and her bedroom door. A few minutes passed in silence, but he heard her cross the room and pick it up.

XxX

Katie was lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling when her brother entered the room. Katie turned over on her side and curled up into a ball, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Michael said casually as he crossed the floor and handed her a bit of toast and set a bowl of cereal on her nightstand. He pulled up the chair from her desk and sat down close to her head. "Are you going to come out and enjoy this fine Autumn day?"

His sister eyed him.

"Come on, Kay," he said, more seriously now. "You've got to come out sometime. I don't know how long they're going to let you miss work."

"I don't care," she replied, rolling over to face the wall.

"Except I think you do," Michael interrupted. "You've been in here for two weeks. You've got to be tired of seeing just me."

"The only thing that I'm tired of," Katie replied stonily, "Is seeing everything I love end."

She paused a moment before she whispered softly, "No one knows how I feel."

"I don't think that's true," Michael replied quietly.

"I lost my fiancé and my grandfather, not to mention about a dozen friends," Katie spat. "What do you know?"

"I think Aunt Liz probably understands," Michael pointed out. "She lost her husband and her father. Andromeda Tonks probably knows what you're going through; she lost her husband and her daughter. Mum hasn't spoken to Dad in ages, and she just lost her father. George just lost his twin brother, for fuck's sake! His other half, Katie, and you don't see him hiding away in his room."

"HE DID!" Katie cried through angry tears. "He did until I came and coaxed him out! And where is he now when _I_ need him?! Not here!"

"You punched him in the face," Michael reminded his sister, grabbing her by the shoulders and steadying her. "He probably doesn't think you want to hear from him."

"I don't care," Katie began to cry. "I don't care anymore, I just don't care…"

Her shoulders shook and Michael frowned slightly, leaning over his sister and rubbing her back. "I know, Katie, but you have to _try_, okay? You can't just give up on me. I need you. A lot of us do."

"I _can't_," she spluttered. "I can't go back out there…not after what I did. What I said."

"No one holds it against you," he said firmly. "We all understand you were upset. If anything, it was my fault. I shouldn't have walked out of there in the first place and left you by yourself."

Katie smiled back at him through her tears. "Oh, Michael, it wasn't your fault and you know it."

He smiled at his sister. "That's the smile I miss," he said. "Listen, I won't push you, but Mum wants to come over today, alright? She's worried about you."

Katie fervently shook her head. "No," she said. "No, I won't see her."

"Why not, Katie? She's your mother."

"Because. I just won't. I won't see anyone."

"Not even Oliver?"

"Of _course_ not him. No one."

Michael shrugged. "Well, I'm sure he'll be over in about five minutes anyway. It's his lunch break. He comes over every day you know, to check on you."

"He doesn't have to," Katie said coldly.

He just started at her for a while before saying, "Listen, Kay, I'm going to go out today alright...? I'm taking Alicia out for lunch."

He gave her a knowing look and Katie just nodded. "Fine," she said. And then, "I knew there was a reason you were in a sweater instead of one of your horrid oversized button ups."

"Thanks, little sis, you're a real flatterer."

"You won't comb your hair, though, will you?"

"Never. Besides, I'm not taking advice from someone who can barely make it from her bed to the bathtub every day."

Katie threw a pillow at her brother as he exited the room. She turned on her side to face the wall. _So he was going to see Alicia. Well, that was fine. Alicia would have someone to look after her. She had thought George might have been that person for her, but it didn't matter. He didn't matter. He could abandon her, she didn't care. Let him live his life. She didn't have one anymore_.

Katie curled into a ball and stared at the silver band still slipped onto her left finger. She spun it around as the light streaming in from between the blinds reflected off of it and made shapes on the wall.

"Fred," she whispered softly.

"Katie."

She jumped, but realized it was just Oliver Wood. She sighed, casting her gaze toward her door. "Idiot," she breathed.

And then she saw a simple daisy pushed through the space between the door and the floor. She paused a moment and then retrieved it, throwing it out the window.

No one understood how alone she was. No one.

XxX


	24. Confrontation

**A/N: A warning, this is a fairly angsty chapter with a lot of language at the end. It really took a lot out of me to write. I hope you have time to review and tell me what you think. **

Michael entered the waiting room of St. Mungo's Hospital and asked the witch behind the reception desk for Alicia. She smiled and quickly disappeared as Michael looked around. He hated hospitals. They reminded him too much of his sister and everything that had been afflicting her for the past four and a half months, and it gave him pain. He struggled with his own feelings of loss, but he had not been there to witness everything that had passed before Katie's eyes. He resented it, but he could not change it. And it hurt him not to see her smile.

Michael was tired; he had been trying to take care of his sister—and to some degree, Alicia—for the past two weeks, having deferred his return to the Kenmare Kestrals for another month. He had dark circles under his eyes and looking at the worried faces of the people surrounding him, he did not understand how Alicia was not mentally exhausted working in an institution like this one.

The blonde in question appeared in front of him, smiling broadly to reveal two rows of straight, white teeth. Her happiness revived him and he grinned back at her. Michael had indeed been smitten with his younger sister's best friend for sometime, but it was only recently that he had learned to appreciate characteristics about her beyond her attractive exterior and her shyly coy smiles. Alicia Spinnet was indefatigable. He had half expected her to lock herself up in her own room after hearing his sister's harsh ranting, but she had not. She remained positive, cheerful, and understanding, always asking Michael straight away how Katie was without mentioning the incidents at the funeral service once. She was a rock. Michael had come to see her the first time two weeks ago to try to take care of her, but he was finding that she was of more service to him.

"Hi, Michael," she said grinning as he faintly smiled and greeted her with a hug.

"Hey, Stampy," he said affectionately. "Are you ready to go get some food?"

"Absolutely," she returned with enthusiasm, grabbing her purse. "I'm starved. I think I'll put away enough food for an industrialized nation today."

Michael scoffed. "I sincerely doubt that," he remarked. Alicia was a rail.

"You'd be surprised," she said undauntedly. "And I'll prove it."

He smirked. "You're on, Spinnet."

XxX

George Weasley had closed up shop for lunch and was standing in the back room, leaning against the counter and gazing up at the array of photographs that had been taped to the wall since WWW had reopened. In particular, he was staring at one directly in the center. Charlie had snapped it the night of the reopening kickoff—it wasn't of anything in particular, just crowds mainly, but in the corner Katie Bell and himself were visible. He had a stupid grin plastered on his face; he recognized it as the one he wore after he made a particularly begging joke. He was rocking back and forth slightly on his heels, his lurid tie attracting attention even in the small photograph. But it wasn't his figure he was interested in--it was Katie's. She stood just across from him, balancing most of her weight on her left foot which was slightly behind her. Her strappy black dress and dark hair complimented her olive skin. She was laughing at whatever stupid joke he had told in the picture; her teeth flashed as she gave him the obligatory smile and iconic tinkling laugh. It was Katie's eyes that arrested George, however. On the outset, the celery green orbs were dancing with her laughter but as he gazed closer, there was just a trace of sorrow there.

George recognized that look as the one she wore all the time. The tiny silver band flashed in the picture as she looked down at her drink and then back up at George.

George stared at the photograph intently for the next several moments. He drummed his fingers listlessly on the counter.

"Lee!" he shouted to his friend who was straightening the shelves, as he shoved his wallet and wand into his back pocked and headed out the front door. "I'm going out!"

Lee continued to stare at the door after it had slammed shut, hardly daring to hope that his friend had gone where he guessed.

XxX

"No, I mean it," Michael laughed as he directed Alicia across the street and onto the sidewalk. They had finished their lunch and he was now walking her back to St. Mungo's. "Your hair is brilliant. It reminds me of a Snitch."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Everything reminds you of Quidditch," she said dismissively.

He shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his dark washed denim jeans. "I can't help it," he joked. "It's an obsession. It…defines my life, what can I say?"

"Certainly," she returned artfully, her bright blonde hair glinting in the cold Autumn sunlight. "At the outset, one would think you were interested in nothing else."

Michael regarded her, smirking slightly. "Now Stampy," he said, "I think we both know that that is not the case."

"Nevertheless…"

"Your favorite color is aquamarine," he interrupted. "Your parents are Muggles, your mum is from Ireland and your dad is a chiropractor and plays golf on the weekends, but not the first of every month because that's when your parents visit your grandmother who lives in Bath. The Weasley twins put you on your first broomstick when you were eleven and you showed up Lee Jordan and beat him for a place on the team. You love thunder storms even though the lightening scares you, _and_…you are one of the most adorable creatures I have ever been in contact with. Now. How is that for being interested?"

Alicia flushed a deep scarlet, twisting the ends of her Healer's robes. She was clearly at a loss for words.

"The real question here is when do I get to see you again, Alicia Spinnet?" Michael said artfully, a broad grin spreading across his face.

"Michael…" Alicia began tentatively. "Do you really think this is a good idea? With Katie's situation, and all. I mean, she had a hard enough time dealing with the Lee and Angelina thing…and if you and I start something, I don't know what she'll do."

Michael's heart fell as soon as the words left her lips, but he still managed a small smile.

"Can we just leave Katie out of it for a bit?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound entirely too cruel to his younger sister. "I don't want to put this on hold. Do you?"

Alicia shook her head violently. "I can't, Michael," she said firmly. "I won't do this to her. Not now."

The seeker wanted to push it, but he knew she was right. That didn't stop him from grabbing her arm as she turned to go into St. Mungo's however, and whirling her back around to face him.

"What…?" she asked, confused.

"Sorry," he grinned softly as he leaned down to kiss her. "Thought you were a Snitch."

"_Michael Bell_!" She feigned anger, but they both had secret smiles on their faces as they parted ways, back into worlds of heartache and angst.

XxX

Katie lay on her bed, curled up into a ball and stared at the white-washed wall in front of her. Her gaze seemed to transcend the flimsy badly painted apartment, however, as she breathed deeply. _He would not come_, she told herself. _Neither of them would. She had lost one, and hurt the other_. _How could she expect anything now_?

She had heard Oliver go about an hour ago. She did not regret it. After a while, they would all stop coming and she may finally have some peace. Maybe she would simply waste away up here. Death would come peacefully and easy; she would fade out of existence instead of leaving violently. Without having to contemplate taking her own life deliberately.

Katie closed her eyes, imagining this. She seemed to float away. Images flitted before her eyes: she and George dancing on the rooftops, Alicia's periwinkle dress, Grandpa Artemis's clean white empty hotel bed. Strangely unrelated images they were, interconnected only because they represented life after Fred. She saw a mince pie at the Weasleys, rain at Alki Beach in Seattle, a ribbon she wore in her hair. Fred's toothbrush, McGonagall's face etched with lines of age and empathy, Oliver's laugh, and Ginny's tears all faded into the feeling of George's arms as he held her, leaned against her, and soaked up the life out of her in his bedroom at the Burrow. She could still feel the muggy summer air and smell the faint scent of ginger and gunpowder in his shaggy red hair.

He would not come. No one would. And she would not die; she would simply fade out like a bad radio signal until there was nothing but white noise.

XxX

George did not bother with the front door. He simply Apparated into Katie's living room, barely taking in the mess and general disarray of the apartment since Michael had been temporarily living there. He strode down the tiny hallway and banged on the door to Katie's bedroom.

"Katie!" he bellowed, nearly breaking down the thin door. "Let me in!"

The bottled up anger in his voice was clear, and he could hear her shifting around.

"George?" he could hear her timid answer, and the questioning in her voice.

"Yeah, it's me," he yelled gruffly. "Now open up the damn door or I'm breaking it down!"

Even without seeing her, he could tell that her face was tensing up.

"No!" came the swift answer, her voice suddenly steely.

George withdrew his wand impatiently and blasted the lock apart. He threw open the door and it slammed against the side of her wall. Katie was sitting up in bed and she instinctively crawled backward to the headboard.

"What are you doing in here?!" she shouted as he strode across the room, threw open her closet, and began dumping pairs of pajamas and sweat pants into the bin.

"You're getting out of here!" he answered her sharply, continuing to work. "And I'm getting rid of your damn pity clothes. You're going back into work."

"_Excuse me_?"

"Yeah," George answered, still refusing to meet her eyes. "You're going to get fired, Katie. As much as your office loves Oliver, he can't keep them abated forever."

"I don't _care_ about my job, George, in case you haven't picked up on that," Katie said angrily, rushing forward and tugging her clothes back from the redhead.

"Well you're sure as hell not going to keep wallowing up here by yourself, Kay!" he shouted, violently ripping them back from her. "I'm sick and tired of all of the hushed voices worrying about you! _Oh poor Katie, she hasn't left her room in two weeks. Katie's going kill herself up there. George, you have to do something for Katie before she gives up on life entirely_. I'm through with hearing about it and so you're through with this act you're on about!"

Katie's eyes flashed dangerously, her hands balling up into fists. "Oh! Well I'm _sorry_ that my _misery_ has hurt your social life, George Weasley! But you're just gonna have to deal with that!"

"Your _misery_?" George exploded, backing her into a corner. "Katie, you're _addicted _to your fucking misery! Look at you! You're so sick and twisted that you actually _get off _on people worrying about you! You just _love_ the fact that you're wasting away up here while everyone else out in the real world is talking about what a pathetic head case you are!"

"_EXCUSE ME?!"_

"NO! You're done playing at this! And I'm not listening to _ANY MORE_ of your shit! You think I don't know what this is about?! You're so fucking messed up that you think this is somehow _ROMANTIC_—that you're just gonna fade away up here and grow thin and frail and miserable out of _love_ and that that's gonna somehow make everything better! You've still got on that engagement band for Godric's sake, Katie! Where's your fucking wedding dress, huh? Where's your moth-eaten wedding dress that you're supposed to be roaming around in, haunting this little shitty apartment in? Where are the wedding invitations you're still making out, Kay? Godric knows you're so deranged you wanna send those out too! Where are they, Kay, _where_?!" 

"Shut up, George, just _SHUT THE FUCK UP_!" Katie was screaming at the top of her lungs, her hands stuffed against her ears, tears pouring out of her eyes now.

"WHY DON'T YOU HIT ME AGAIN, HUH?" George continued to explode. He was unable to control himself now. "Why the hell don't you give me another black eye, Kay? Maybe _that_ will help you to feel better! You wanna do it? _I'M RIGHT HERE_!"

He gestured wildly at his face, daring her to punch him. "Do it, Katie, do it!" He was half-crazed now.

"_NO!_" she shouted, suddenly standing up. Although she was only five foot two, she seemed to tower over George, poking him the shoulder and shoving him back. "Because that's what _YOU _want, isn't it, George? You just _LOVE _that I've gone crazy because that somehow makes you more of a man! _YOU'RE _the strong one, _YOU'RE _the one that everyone admires—but deep down, you're no better than me! In fact, I think you're going mad because you just can't accept the fact that I'm suffering just as much as you are!"

"_YOU?!_" he bellowed, rattling the window panes. He had tears in his own eyes now. They were hot and stinging his cheeks. "Katie, you have _NO IDEA_ what kind of a hell I am going through! You may have loved him, you may have known that part of him, but I _WAS HIM!_ I was half of him for fuck's sake! Do you realize that?! Do you realize that I _STILL WORK AT OUR SHOP?! THAT I'M CARRYING ON A BUSINESS THAT I STARTED WITH MY OTHER HALF?! KATIE, I SLEEP IN MY DEAD TWIN BROTHER'S BED! EVERY TIME I LOOK IN THE MIRROR, I SEE HIM, AND EVERY TIME SOMEONE LOOKS AT ME, THEY LOOK FOR HIM! EVERYONE DOES IT! I GET UP EVERY SINGLE MORNING HATING MY LIFE BUT I DO IT BECAUSE I'M A HUMAN BEING. _I'm a goddamn human being, Kay, and so are you! So start acting like it!"

Katie had collapsed in the corner, her face buried in her hands, her eyes flowing with tears. George hated her. He wanted to continue to yell at her, to make her feel the rage he felt when she dared to compare her own suffering to his. He wanted to shake her until she understood that she was being an idiot. He hated her for loving Fred so much and him so little. He hated her for making him care about her, hated her for making him so dependent on her, for being the only person in his life that actually seemed to understand. He hated her for understanding. He opened his mouth to yell at her again, but she beat him to it.

"_I HATE YOU, GEORGE WEASLEY!" _she cried. _"GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT, JUST GET OUT!"_

George hesitated, his jaw suddenly dropping.

"_Katie_," he said, his eyes suddenly refilling with tears. He reached out to touch her gently. "Katie, I'm—"

"I SAID GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! _GET OUT_!"

"FINE!" George renewed his anger and he slammed the bedroom door so hard that it cracked down the middle. In his rage, he almost ran over Michael who had just come through the front door into the living room.

"George, what the hell is going on here?" her brother yelled, throwing up his arms. "What is Katie crying?!"

Michael followed George out as he ran to the porch and down the stairs. "Because I'm a fucking bastard," he answered hollowly, running off into the gardens and Disapparating from sight.

George did not hate Katie Bell. He hated himself.


	25. Carrying On

**A/N: I was kind of under the impression that people had lost interest in this story (I can't believe I started this **_**two years **_**ago), but I got three reviews in a row asking me to please update from different people, so I took it as a sign. I wasn't entirely pleased with this story, to be honest, so I was going to abandon it but I guess some of you really like it so I will continue. Cheers.**

George stood quietly in the corner of the kitchen without saying much unless spoken to. Through his shaggy red hair, his eyes flicked from the front door of the Burrow to the floor and back again. Ginny passed him carrying a basket of dinner rolls, paused, and returned to him.

"What's eating you?" she asked bluntly. "You look dreadful."

"Thanks, Gin," he grunted.

"Well if you're waiting for the Bells," she continued matter-of-factly. "Katie's not coming. She's still in her room, isn't she? Just Mrs. Bell and Michael. Not Elizabeth either."

"Go away, Ginny," George said. She continued to stare at him for a few seconds and then retreated into the kitchen where most of the party was.

Molly Weasley had felt that it was time to host a large family dinner party for their friends in the absence of so many dessert nights, and consequently the Burrow was in a bit of a buzz. It was nothing compared to its former glory, of course, but that stage of its life had gone now. It was not facing Katie Bell that had George occupied. He hadn't expected her to turn up, especially after the escapade yesterday. George was very on edge about encountering Michael Bell. He was not sure how fast or how far the story of what he had done at Katie's apartment had spread, but he was absolutely certain that at least Michael would know about it. And he dreaded seeing him.

George watched Ginny return from the kitchen and sit herself down next to Harry Potter who instantly took her hand. They bent their heads together, whispering and occasionally smiling. George observed them hollowly until the door finally opened, bringing in a burst of cold Autumn air and Mrs. Bell.

Molly greeted her warmly and welcomed her inside as though she were an invalid. Indeed, George noted that Andromeda Bell had lost a great deal of her pluck—her skin looked paler and her cheeks were significantly sunken in. Michael soon followed her inside casually, but was assaulted by Charlie almost instantly who had been heading down the stairs.

"So—you and some young blonde, I hear, Bell!" Charlie boomed good-naturedly.

Michael's face broke into a grin. "Not just any young blonde, Charles, my friend," he returned. "One of Katie's friends. From school—Alicia Spinnet."

Charlie laughed. "Well, that's why little sisters have friends!"

Part of George's personality that he hadn't yet learned to silence suppressed the impulse to state that Charlie _rarely_ dated, and it was never any of Ginny's friends, who could probably find better, less elderly options. It wasn't fun to joke without Fred. He tried, of course, but it was only because it was expected of him. It wasn't the same without having a twin brother who was guaranteed to laugh with you and continue the joke with some sort of witty supporting comment.

Michael laughed, his brown eyes creasing and then suddenly landing on George. George froze instantly as Michael's face sobered and set into a firm grimace. He felt his body tense as Michael crossed the room toward him, and he slightly backed up against the wall.

"Look, Michael…" George was determined to have the first say before Bell could punch him or even verbally abuse him, but he was really at a loss for words.

"Outside," Michael said gruffly in a low voice.

George's eyes widened. "Look, I know I was a git, but do we have to fight?"

"Outside," he repeated, grabbing George by the scruff of his neck and directing him to the front door.

"Going somewhere, Bell?" Charlie called curiously. "What's going on with you and George?"

"Just gonna have a little chat, Charlie," Michael said calmly. George's mind was racing as to how he could avoid yet another black eye from a member of the Bell family without injuring yet another Bell sibling.

Once outside, Michael calmly shut the door and turned around. It was a pleasant evening, though chilly. The moon shown brightly in the crisp autumnal sky and a few leaves scattered across the driveway leading up to the house.

"_Michael_," George began yet again.

Michael put up his hand. "I don't want to fight you, George," he said.

George stared. "You don't?"

"No," he returned evenly. "I just want to talk."

George was quiet for a moment and then nodded. "Okay," he agreed.

They began to walk around the Burrow.

"Are you alright?" Michael began honestly.

George's astonishment registered on his face. "I'm _fine_," he said quickly. "How is Katie? Look, I'm _so _sorry about what happened, I don't know what came over me, I just—"

Again, Michael stopped him.

"Katie didn't tell me what happened, George," he said.

George frowned. "She didn't?" he asked.

"No," he said. "You know what she's like."

"Loyal to the point of making you feel like a jackass," George muttered to the ground. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I was going to with 'stubborn as hell and obnoxiously unyielding', but I suppose that's a good description as well." Michael laughed quietly and looked at George.

The Weasley twin was puzzled. "Michael, I made your little sister, who was already in a really bad place emotionally, cry to the point of making her hate me and then I broke her door. And you're _laughing_ with me instead of punching me in the face?"

"Yes."

"_Why_?"

Michael frowned. "You don't think I've ever made Katie cry?" he asked. "That I've never given her cause to hate me? I do it on a regular basis, George. But that doesn't mean I don't love her."

George was silent and they continued walking through the tall grass.

"And I know you love her, too," he continued. "And I know you would never try to hurt her under normal circumstances, which is why I asked if you were okay."

"I'm…" George was really too amazed to answer. "Fine," he finished.

The older Bell simply continued to stare at him.

"I miss Katie," he finally muttered, staring down at his shoes. They had rounded the corner and reached the front porch again.

"So do I," Michael said. "I know I see her every day, but it isn't her. I miss seeing my little sister smile. George, I would give anything to hear Katie laugh again."

George nodded silently. "Me too."

"I'm not going to ask you what happened," he said firmly. "But I've got to know…are you going to help me take care of her? She's strong, but there's no chance in hell she's doing this alone. I understand if you can't, believe me, I do. But she cares about you, and I know you were everything to her when I was gone--she told me. So what do you say?"

George nodded resolutely. "Of course," he agreed. "I'd do anything…just to get her to talk to me again."

Michael grinned. "Well okay then," he said brightly. "Now let's go inside because I'm starving."

George was overwhelmed by what had just happened, but let Michael slap him on the back and shove him back inside the Burrow. He underestimated the Bell family far too much, and wondered if Fred had known just how open-hearted of people they were.

XxX

Katie Bell shifted lightly in her bed so that she faced her small, dirty window. The grime that had coated the glass when she had moved in refused to be removed and had only intensified during her time there. The moon was large in the dark autumn sky and she watched the progress of a bright red leaf from a giant oak tree as it flapped in the wind and finally detached, floating erratically through the sky. She blinked.

Though she had not been outside, Katie could tell it was the time of year when September finally yielded to the inevitability of the approaching Fall. October was arriving soon, and with it came biting chill, the air full of spices, and long sleeves and jackets. At Hogwarts it had meant the addition of a Gryffindor sweater and having to accept that Summer was actually over, and that homework needed to be tended to instead of shoved aside in favor of greeting old friends.

October also hailed the official start of Quidditch season when Wood's speeches became longer and the hours of training were actually put to use. _Oliver_. He had taken to not saying anything when he came; just sitting outside her door. She knew he was there by the steady evenness of his breathing and the faint smell of leather and old spice she could pick up when she drew near. She liked not having to say anything. It was nice to sit on the other side of her door and know that Wood was just outside, for once not saying anything. She was tired of what people had to say.

The dark-haired girl shifted her gaze to her door. The long crack that had formed when George slammed it shut was still there. She hadn't let Michael mend it, though she wasn't sure why. Katie continued to stare at the door until her eyes slipped out of focus, creating multiple fissures throughout the grain of the wood. George's voice rang in her ears without saying anything.

She had thought several times of the fairness of what George had said that day without acting on it. She was afraid. Somehow, leaving this room meant that she had to _try_. Katie was tired of trying. She had _tried_ since the very day Fred had been killed. Hadn't that been enough? Wasn't it now time for some relief, some gleaming ray of hope to give her the will to carry on? She did not want to become like George who seemed to exist for the sake of existing, too afraid to do anything else. Katie wanted a reason for her life. Fred was gone; she could not find another.

A ray of moonlight momentarily passed through the branches of the oak tree and landed directly on the silver band on her left hand. Immediately, the cracked door was eclipsed by the brightness of the light. Katie's eyes widened, the stagnation of the room suddenly illuminated with a clarity she could not deny. Dust particles rose from the floor and flew into focus as Katie shifted Fred's ring, playing with the prisms of light inside the tiny room. She let her mouth fall open slightly and closed her eyes. Sleep took her.

XxX

"_Fred, what the hell are you doing back there?" Katie asked, rather crossly. She was sitting with her legs criss-crossed on the floor and her head leaning against the back of an old bed in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was two days before Christmas—one of the few times she and Fred had managed to be together since the war had come out in the open—and she very much wanted to be downstairs with the rest of their friends and family celebrating the holiday. Snow fell silently outside the grimy window._

"_One moment, my fetching young minx!" Fred called from the closet through the sounds of rummaging and several things breaking. "I'm just trying to find a marker!"_

"_What?" Katie frowned. "Fred, your mum called us down for dinner ages ago. George will have eaten all the stuffing by now, and you _know _how I feel about the stuffing_."

"_That I do," Fred said, his head popping out from the closet briefly._

"_Then why are we putting it off for a sodding marker?"_

"_Because once I find one, you will be so thrilled, so dazzled, and so speechless, you shan't remember that you're missing out on stuffing at all," he answered confidently, disappearing again._

_Katie rolled her eyes. "I seriously doubt that," she muttered._

"_I heard that!" Fred called cheerily, finally emerging from the closet, a bright red marker twirling between his fingers. He sat down beside her._

"_What do you want, Fred?" she asked tiredly._

"_To marry you," he answered simply._

"_Har har," Katie replied. "What do you _actually_ want?"_

_After a momentary pause, he answered again, "To marry you."_

_His girlfriend's eyes widened, her jaw dropping slightly. "You're JOKING," she said._

"_Actually, I'm not," he said seriously, his mouth twitching slightly in nervousness._

"_Fred, we're _nineteen_," Katie said._

"_I know," he returned._

"_You don't think that's a little…young to be doing something this rash?"_

"_I'm always rash, love," Fred answered softly._

_Katie stared at him, her brow furrowed. "Fred Weasley, what are you on about?" she said. It was barely a whisper._

"_This," he said gently, taking her hand in his. He held it and spread her fingers apart, uncapped the marker, and lightly began drawing on her left ring finger. _

"_Kates," Fred said seriously. "I'm in love with you. I always have been, and you know that. I've also been an ass my fair share of times, and at Bill's wedding—" He paused. "Katie, I've never seen you so upset when I disappeared with that—"_

"_Veela," Katie finished for him, her breathlessness momentarily gone as she recalled the memory, her face hardened._

"_Right," Fred said guiltily, still continuing to trace around her ring finger. "You looked so hurt. You didn't even yell at me. I know we were having problems and…well I don't remember exactly what they were. But then there was that attack, and you were gone. And I had no idea where you'd gone to, or if you were okay. Kates, I've never been so scared in my entire life, you've got to believe that."_

_He paused, taking several deep breaths. "What I'm trying to say," he began again, "My very best without sounding like a _complete _git, is that I realized I can't afford to lose you again. Not here, not now, not like this. I can't have you disappear again without knowing you'll come back. And I know you're going to disappear in a few days, or I am, and I need to know…I need to know that someday when this is all over we can be together. I want to think about that when we're apart."_

"_Fred," Katie said, her voice rushed and bothered. "You know I love you, but are you sure that _marriage _is the answer? I mean why would you want to be with me forever?"_

_Fred laughed merrily. "Katesy, Katesy, Katesy," he said as if she were a small child who had gotten her multiplication tables wrong, "You have courage, wit, loyalty, not to mention a stunning figure. And you're funny—not intentionally, of course, but you make me laugh. Katie, honestly…you are in every way everything in every woman I have ever met, and even more. I know I don't have one jot of anything to deserve you, but I do love you. And I'd take care of you and let you beat me over the head with your broomstick when you're angry with me."_

_The wily redhead smiled at her and noticing her softened gaze, rushed on to say, "Now say you'll marry me, you frigid cow, or I shall be forced to wash this off and I couldn't bear the shame."_

_Katie looked down at her hand which Fred had been holding to see that he had drawn a solid ring around her left ring finger. She laughed out loud in spite of herself._

"_It will have to do until I can afford a real one," he offered, embarrassed. "But I needed to mark you."_

_Katie laughed and threw her arms around Fred's neck. "Fred, you unimaginable bastard," she grinned. "Look what you've gone and done to me."_

"_Is that a yes, then?" he asked._

_She slapped him upside the head. "Of course it is, you great git."_

_The grin on his face had never been so broad as he gripped onto her and whispered into her ear, "Katie, I love you. And you love everyone and everything. You carry on when no one else does."_

_Katie was unable to respond from grinning through her tears. Fred flashed her a devilish smile. "See?" he said wickedly. "I told you that you would be speechless if I found this thing."_

_He twirled the marker in his fingers._

_XxX_

Katie sat up in bed. She looked down at the ring around her finger, breathing heavily.

"It's about love," she breathed to herself.

She got up. She would not let herself change from the person she was when he loved her. She crossed the room, opened the jewel box which sat on her small desk, and pulled out a plain silver chain. She removed the band from her finger—the first time since it had been placed there—and strung it on the chain. Hesitating only briefly, Katie hung it around her neck. She then threw on jeans and headed out the door. She needed to be somewhere where she felt safe tonight.

XxX

"Ketchup goes into the refrigerator after it's opened, moron!" Angelina Johnson shouted from the porch of her flat where she stood.

"I knew that!" Lee Jordan answered, shuffling into the kitchen.

The tall dark girl hugged herself as the breeze ruffled her hair slightly. She stared up at the moon. It seemed so large and so near tonight. Her boyfriend was inside the flat she shared with Alicia, clearing up after that night's dinner. She had been attempting to teach him how to live as a Muggle, as the apartment complex was Muggle-owned and tenants would be suspicious if they noticed things like the stove going unused.

Lee would be going back to the flat he shared with George soon and Alicia was visiting her parents for the night. She would be alone soon. Angelina looked down at the ground, giving into the thoughts that she had been suppressing, which came to her with increasing regularity.

"Fred, you bastard," she hissed bitterly at nothing in particular. "You die and take everyone with you."

She could not help feeling that way. George had not been—and would perhaps never be—himself. Katie had turned into a recluse. Lee was physically and emotionally exhausted every day from dealing with his own grief as well as George's. Alicia, in her typical fashion, betrayed no signs of outward sadness but fixated on healing everyone and not focusing on herself. In some ways, Angelina felt she did not know her friends anymore. And she could not help hating Fred Weasley for it. He had always affected everyone that way.

"At least give us Katie back, you selfish prick," she continued, tears stinging her brown eyes. "She's my best friend."

In school, Angelina had often been accused of interfering with her friends' lives. She had been considered the mother hen of the group, ordering people around and in some instances was perceived as trying to dictate their feelings. _Bossy_, Lee had always called her. Perhaps she was. Yet, she always felt she did the things she did because she cared. And a lot of the times, those things had worked. Now, if George would only go to _see _Katie…

Secretly, buried somewhere deep inside herself, Angelina was resentful that it would not be her who could talk sense into Katie. She wanted her to confide in her again, the way she had when they were younger and stayed up late giggling in the Hogwarts dorm rooms. Yet, if she had to use George to get Katie back, she would. But the man would not _go_.

Already frustrated, Angelina snapped at the sound of a breaking dish.

"Lee Jordan!" she shouted, whirling around to lecture her boyfriend on being more careful. Lee's face greeted her, wide-eyed, when she re-entered the apartment.

"What?" she snapped, unable to control herself. "What did you drop that dish for?"

"Sorry Ange," Lee stammered. "It's only—"

"Only _what_?"

"Katie's here."

XxX


	26. The Return

**A/N: I've been** **getting a lot of really urgent requests to update this story, so it must be about time…honestly, I've put it off because I knew that before I got to the stuff I want to write in this story, there needed to be a filler chapter. So I'm sorry to those of you who have been waiting so patiently for an update that this chapter isn't very thrilling. I think the next couple should be, though…please review, as always! Much love…**

XxX

"Katie?!" Angelina's disbelieving voice rang shrilly through the air and stung Katie's ears. She used one hand to steady herself against the doorframe and the other to clutch her head.

"I—I wasn't sure where else to go," she managed to finally get out. "Not George, not Oliver…and I can't…Alicia…the things I said to Alicia…"

She suddenly felt dizzy again and stumbled slightly backwards into Lee, who caught her instantly.

"It's okay," Angelina said quickly, guiding the pair of them inside the apartment. "It's okay, it's okay…just come in. Alicia's not here right now, she's working late tonight."

Katie let Angelina grasp hold of her fully and set her down on the couch in the small living room.

"Lee, get Katie some cider," Angelina commanded without removing her eyes from her friend.

"Ange, I don't need anything, really…" Katie trailed off.

"Trust me, honey, you do," the tall girl said definitively. "You need something warm; you look chilled to the bone. Did you walk here?"

Katie admitted that she had. "I hadn't used magic in so long, I just thought…" she stopped and gazed away. Angelina nodded.

"No, you were right not to apparate," she commended. "But God, Katie, why didn't you floo over or send an owl? You know we would have come to you in a heartbeat."

Katie shrugged as Angelina wrapped a few blankets around her and started a fire in the fireplace with a flick of her wand. "I—I wasn't sure what to think, I guess," she said. "After everything. I've been so selfish."

Lee reappeared with a mug of hot cider and handed it to her wordlessly. Katie drank deep and felt the warmth of the liquid flow through her whole body. She shivered slightly and felt a little better.

"No, honey," Angelina said soothingly. "No, you haven't. Trust me, we all understand."

Lee nodded. "Are you daft, Bell?" he grinned slightly. "If anyone has the right to have been a little selfish lately, it was you. We're just glad to see you."

Katie still shook her head, setting down the mug. "No," she said softly but firmly. "No, I've been an arse. George knew and he called me on it, and well…"

Angelina furrowed her brow. "What?" she said quizzically. "You saw George? He never said a word! Lee, did he to you? We've been trying to get him over there for weeks! And he came? When?"

"Yeah," Katie said dismissively. "A couple of days ago. But it doesn't matter because it was awful and I don't think he's ever going to want to see me again."

"What, are you kidding?" her friend almost laughed. "We're owling him right now, this is ridiculous!"

"No, Angelina," Katie said firmly, reaching out and pulling Angelina back down to the couch. "I can't see him."

"Why the hell not?" Lee almost burst out. "Kates, you're his best friend."

"No, I'm not," she whispered. "Not after what I said to him. And you know, he just…he just knows me too well. He's right, I'm just…addicted to my own sadness."

"He said that?" Angelina asked, appalled. She exchanged glances with Lee.

Katie shrugged, looking away. "I don't want to talk about George," she said decidedly. "And I don't want to see him. Alright?"

"Of course not, if you don't want to," Angelina said. "It's just good that you're here. But honestly, whatever happened, I seriously doubt…"

"I said I don't want to talk about him, okay?" Katie said, almost on the verge of tears again. Angelina retreated instantly.

"Okay," she agreed calmly. "How's the cider? Do you want anything else?"

Katie shook her head. "I'm fine," she said faintly. "I just want to sit for a while."

"Of course," Angelina said. "Whatever you want."

After a pause, Katie spoke. "I didn't know where else to go," she repeated.

"You can always come here," Lee said firmly. Angelina nodded.

"You can," she affirmed. "Even though Lee doesn't live here and technically has no right to extend the invitation."

Katie suddenly smirked and Angelina's face widened into a broad smile. Lee rolled his eyes.

"Why is the sudden icebreaker always at my expense?" he asked moodily. The girls just laughed.

XxX

Hours later, Katie lay awake on the pull-out trundle bed on Angelina and Alicia's couch. She huddled into her blankets and watched the embers in the fireplace slowly die down, wondering how in the hell she was supposed to reconstruct her life after going AWOL. She absent-mindedly stroked the ring that hung around her neck; she did not regret putting it there, but she missed its familiar warmth around her finger.

"Fred, please help me get through this," she pleaded underneath her breath.

She had already decided with Angelina that she would finish out this weekend, visit her family and Oliver, and return to work on Monday. Angelina had even helped her write her boss to inform her she was returning. And she had forced Katie into agreeing to talk to Alicia as well. As to George, she had let the matter drop. Katie assumed she would probably be unable to escape meeting with him at some point, but they could never be what they were. She was too ashamed of the things she had said, and the selfish feelings she had entertained. No matter what Fred had been to her—what he still was--, it was nothing to who he was to George and Katie knew it. To have assumed she could sympathize with him had been haughty and wrong—she was too humiliated to face him again. He had even softened that afternoon, before she had screamed at him to get out. She hadn't even given him a chance to apologize.

Katie's thoughts were interrupted by a fiddling at the door.

"Oh, sod it," whispered a voice. "_Alohomora_."

Katie quickly ducked underneath her blankets to avoid Alicia Spinnet, who was currently walking through the door. If she had to face Alicia, she would wait until the morning. The day had been exhausting already.

Alicia fumbled around daftly, knocking over a lamp and swearing underneath her breath, just as she used to do in school. Behind her, a male voice chuckled. Katie almost jumped.

"Are you always this skilled at navigating in the dark, Alicia?"

Katie threw a hand over her mouth to keep herself from gasping as she recognized her brother's voice. _What was Michael doing here_? She knew he had been casually seeing Alicia; she had no idea they were…_involved. _She bit her lip in trepidation.

"You _know_ I'm like this, Michael," Alicia scolded in a hushed voice.

"Yes, I do seem to recall," the older Bell said mischievously.

"Shh!" Alicia hissed. "That's probably Lee on the couch…"

"So?" Michael asked in a carefree voice. "We've got nothing to be ashamed of…I'm just a gallant gentleman who escorted a vulnerable young woman home to her apartment after a trying shift at work. Let him hear."

"You _know_ that's not what I mean," Alicia returned. After a pause, she added, "How was the Weasley's anyway?"

On the couch, Katie strained to hear more.

"Not bad," her brother returned effortlessly. "Charlie asked me about you…"

"Oh, did he really?" Alicia asked coyly.

"Mmhmm," Michael hummed. "Cheeky bastard."

They were silent and then Katie heard definite sounds of snogging. She had to forcibly restrain herself from groaning. After a few minutes, the former Gryffindor chaser was contemplating making herself known; she could not endure much more of this. But, Alicia and Michael must have broken apart, because she heard Alicia giggle slightly and then sigh.

"You told him, didn't you?" she asked seriously.

"Leesh," Michael said, in a pleading voice Katie recognized as the one he adopted when he knew he was about to be scolded for something.

"Michael!" she hissed. "What if it gets around? What if it gets around to _Katie_? I've already messed her life up enough lately."

"Alicia," Michael said sternly.

"Well, she perceives it that way, anyway…" Alicia finished dubiously.

"You know that's not true. She didn't mean those things she said, I've told you a thousand times. And besides…what's going to get around to her? She only sees me!"

Alicia was silent for a moment and then asked, "Did you talk to George? Will he see her again?"

Katie's ears perked up and she clutched the edges of her blanket. However, at that moment, Angelina tumbled out into the living room and said in a very tired voice, "Alicia, tell Michael good night and get to bed. It's been a very _long_ night and I want to sleep."

It wasn't hard for Katie to picture Alicia's flushed face and Michael's bemused one as she heard them bid each other good night and Alicia retreat back to the hallway. She silently cursed Angelina for entering at such an inopportune time. _What had happened between George and her brother_?

Much as she wanted them, however, answers were not going to come that night and eventually she slipped off into sleep.

XxX

_Before anyone knew what was going on, dozens of them began spilling out of the Room of Requirement, shouts and blasts echoing down the halls. Katie gripped Fred's hand hard, but the momentum of the flood of people strained their grip on one another. Her knuckles were white._

"_Fred!" Katie shouted desperately as the twins began to be pulled apart from the main body of their friends. George's grip on the ground was ebbing and Lee and the rest of the girls were soon pulled apart from the Weasleys._

_A few meters out, Katie was shouting his name repeatedly, jumping up and down to see over the heads of the swarm of Dumbledore's Army. "Fred!" she called. "Fred!"_

"_It's okay, Kates," Fred called, still relentlessly cheerful. "I'll see you when this is over!"_

_He waved madly, his freckled face standing out among the masses._

"_Don't you leave me!" Katie shouted._

"_Never!" he called back. "Oh hey…Kates, catch!"_

_And without any kind of romantic overture, Fred reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulled out a tiny box and lobbed it over the heads of about three dozen people._

_Astonished, Katie's chaser reflexes kicked in and she snatched it from the air. Hardly daring to believe what was inside, she flipped open the top of the little box and a simple silver band glistened in the dim light of the castle. She looked up, flabbergasted. _

_Fred's face was split into a wide grin._

"_I love you!" he shouted._

_Katie's eyes filled with tears. "I love you, too, Fred! I love you!"_

XxX

Katie awoke to a high-pitched squeal and someone throwing themselves onto her body. She sat straight up, whirling around wildly.

"Angelina _barely _told me you were here!" Alicia shrieked. "I can't believe it, it's so good to see you!"

Alicia threw her arms around Katie, squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe. Astonished, Katie withdrew.

"Why on earth are you happy to see me?" she asked, unable to prevent herself. "I was awful to you…"

The blonde girl waved her hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge," she said. "I'm so glad you're here! I thought you were Lee when I came in last night!"

"I know," Katie replied, without thinking. Her friend suddenly looked horrified, a pink twinge appearing at her cheeks. Katie quickly backpedaled. "I mean, I assumed," she reassured her. "I was obviously sleeping when you came home…"

Alicia looked relieved and quickly recovered her cheerful demeanor. "Come on, Lee came over and he's making breakfast!"

Without another word, she grabbed Katie by the wrist and pulled her over to the kitchen bar where Lee was attempting to cook pancakes in Muggle fashion. His dreadlocks stood out unruly and ridiculous from a chef's hat he had found somewhere.

"Lee, I had no idea you were such a proficient chef," Katie said in a forced light-hearted manner. Her heart was still pounding slightly from her dream.

"Yes, well it's not my fault you were always too busy snogging Fred in Muggle Studies to notice my superior gastronomic skills," Lee returned, flipping a pancake in the air. "Now, Miss Bell…do you have a pancake shape in mind?"

Katie's heart still caught in her throat at the mention of Fred's name, but her recovery was quicker. She forced a grin. "Make me a hippogriff," she demanded, to Lee's cries of dismay and Alicia's laughter.

At that moment, Angelina entered the kitchen in much more formal kitchen attire. "Lee, what are you doing?" she snapped. "You're getting flour everywhere."

Lee just stuck out his tongue and placed some on her nose. Angelina smirked in spite of herself and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Sleep well, Katie?" she asked in what was very obviously an attempt at a casual tone. Katie ignored it.

"Wonderfully, Ange. Thanks."

"Good," she said. "After breakfast, you can use the washroom. It's the first door on the left. You've got lunch with your mum and your aunt at noon at the Paper Dragon."

Katie gave her a look.

"What?" Angelina asked, avoiding Katie's direct gaze. "You came to me first—this is what I do. I sent letters to everyone."

Katie laughed in spite of yourself. "Yes, yes it is what you do….who did you send letters to exactly?"

Angelina shrugged. "Your mum. Oliver. Michael. Your boss. LeAnne."

"And?" Katie prompted.

Angelina rolled her eyes. "And _not_ George," she said. "Though you really ought to let me."

"No," Katie said shortly. "Dealing with my mother today is going to be difficult enough…"

"Hey," Alicia said, taking her hand. "It will be fine. They're your family."

"Yeah," Katie answered. "I know."

And in all honesty, she supposed it would be fine. If all of this could melt away so quickly, especially with Alicia, maybe everything would be alright…

XxX

George quietly tugged on the latch that opened the trap door in his ceiling and climbed out onto the roof. It had been a long day; he and Ron had spent most of it cataloguing merchandise. It was a long and dull chore and something he and Fred had often had Verity do, but it was necessary. Immediately afterward, Ron had sped off to meet Hermione somewhere and despite his mother's pleadings that he could come home, George remained in the flat above the shop. He knew his family did not want him alone, but he knew if he stayed with them they would simply plague him with questions he did not want to answer.

_How was he? Did he have enough food in his pantry? Was he sleeping well? Was he sleeping at all? Was he getting out? Was he seeing friends?_

None were questions he wanted to answer. George was tired of being fussed over, and tired of the underlying question he knew they most wanted answered and the one he least wanted to address: had he seen Katie?

As far as George could figure, his family was still treating him like a twin. They did not believe he could function on his own. Perhaps they were right, but it wasn't something George cared to dwell on. And he knew his family had unwittingly replaced Fred in George's life with Katie—Katie, who was someone he could depend on, be with, take care of, and who could take care of him. Another twin. He would never admit that to his family, however. It would just cause them more pain and even more calculation when they spoke to him.

They must realize, George thought, that Fred was irreplaceable. Deep down, they must; Katie must be a distraction for them. And maybe she had been for him, too.

Yet, he had promised Michael he would see her again—try to make things right. George was afraid, but he had promised. Still, what if he started to take over her life the way he felt he had unwittingly started to with Lee? George was terrified of continuing to need her the way he had. The whole purpose of life after Fred was to prove he could _handle_ life after Fred—life as George Weasley, not one half of the Weasley twins.

George sighed as he stretched out on the rooftop and tipped back a bottle of bourbon, emptying the contents down his throat. _Alcohol was the only thing that made sense anymore_.

His vision of the night sky was interrupted by a large tawny owl he recognized as Angelina's. It circled the rooftop and then flew down to him, a short letter enclosed in its beak. George sat up and accepted the letter, and the bird watched him with large amber eyes. He frowned at it as he ripped open the envelope.

_George,_

_I promised Katie I wouldn't write to you, but I have to—she showed up at our apartment last night, totally exhausted and unstable. She seems better today, I sent her off with her mum and I think she's staying at her house with Michael and her aunt tonight. But I'm still worried about how she's going to transition back into everything—she's going back to work on Monday and I really don't want to see her turn back around into how she was immediately after Fred's death. You know, the workaholic automaton without any visible emotion. I think you need to see her. You'll have to take her offguard somehow, she won't agree to arrange anything, but you really need to come. _

_I don't know what happened between the two of you when you went to see her, but you both need to forget it. Katie thinks you don't want to see her again. Convince her otherwise. But don't tell her I wrote to you—she will skin me alive. And you and me both know what it's like to be on the receiving end of Katie rage. _

_Write me back—I told my owl to wait for a response from you._

_Love,  
Ange_

George's brow furrowed intensely as he reread the letter, dwelling especially on a couple of passages. His emotions were rather inexplicable—Katie was out? And she didn't want to see him? George's frown deepened.

"Go away," he muttered to the owl. The bird just cocked its head.

"I said, go away," he said more sternly, waving it off.

Angelina's owl seemed to narrow its eyes.

"Well go!" George finally shouted.

The owl simply looked at George, reached out and bit his finger, and then took off into the night.

"Damn it," George swore, immediately sucking at his finger. He discarded the letter, and lay back down on the rooftop.

George stared into the cold night sky and up at the stars. _Back at square one._

XxX


	27. On a Sidewalk in the Rain

**A/N: I am painfully aware how incredibly overdue this update is. I hope it has been worth the wait! It's rather long, so watch out for that…And! P.S.! My birthday is tomorrow, so if anyone needs any last minute gift ideas for me (and has any semblance of artistic talent), I would love for someone to draw the last scene of this chapter. For real. I'd love to post pictures to go along with this story, but I'm woefully unartistic. Anyone, anyone? If not, you can just write a killer review & that will do for a great birthday present as well. Ha. Cheers, everyone!**

"George Weasley!"

"You've no idea how wonderful it is to hear your screeching voice in the mornings, Ange," George said dryly from behind the counter where he was going over last week's ledger.

Angelina ignored him. "Why haven't you come to see Katie?" she demanded. "Didn't you get my owl?"

"Yes, I had the pleasure of receiving the information which you were so good as to send me," he continued in the same style. "But after perusing it, I discovered that Kates had no desire whatsoever to see me, and thus remained here."

"Quit being cute," Angelina said crossly.

"I'll try, but it's difficult."

"_George_."

"_Angelina_."

She sidestepped his retorts. "It's Wednesday. I sent you that letter on Saturday. And you haven't come. Don't you want to see your friend at all?"

George turned serious now. "Really, Ange, _I_ do, but she doesn't. And I've got to respect her wishes."

She crossed her arms. "You mean you can't be bothered," she translated.

"I didn't say that."

"Because your pride was hurt!"

George put away the ledger, flicked his hair away from his face and stared at his friend.

"So what if it was?" he asked her. "Is that so unreasonable? It's not as if I haven't got feelings too, you know. She's not the only one having a hard time of it."

"I know that, George, I'm just—"

"What? Really? I mean, I'm sorry to sound like a selfish jackass here, but my function in life is not only to provide comfort to Katie. And it's not yours either. I'm just tired of you coming down here every time she has a melt down and expecting me to fix it!"

Angelina looked flabbergasted as she watched George. He was not yelling, but was clearly speaking forcefully about something he felt very strongly. He shrugged his shoulders and his eyes invited her to contradict him. In her silence, he continued.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Angelina, but life isn't exactly wonderful when your twin brother dies and all of your friends spend their time worrying about someone else."

It slipped out before he had meant it to, but the effect was immediate. In her typical manner, Angelina jutted out her bottom jaw and put her hands on her hips forcefully. The fire inside her eyes built up and flashed.

"George Weasley, you know that is in no way fair," she said in a manner that reminded George of his mother. "Alicia's rearranged all of her shifts at the hospital so that her schedule matches yours in case you ever need her. And what about when I ditched that bloke I liked to come with you to the reopening of this place? And Lee? Did you know Lee dropped a very lucrative contract to DJ on KWIZ because he didn't want you to have to go into business alone? God, George, it's no use talking to you when you're like this!"

She stomped out of the store and slammed the door behind her, leaving George feeling more like an ass than he had in a long time. A fresh burden of guilt piled onto his plate, he sighed and flopped down on the couch in the back room, running his fingers through his ginger hair.

XxX

Katie Bell grabbed her mail out of the beak of her tawny owl which had perched over the door just as she was exiting. Rifling through it as she made her way down the stairs, she frowned at a yellow envelope and then shoved the lot in her brown messenger bag. She would deal with that later. Turning on the spot, Katie apparated into the bustling halls of the Daily Prophet.

Going back to work had been quite a bit easier than Katie had anticipated. No one had said anything about her extended absence, though she attributed this mainly to her friend in the booth next to her. According to Jacquelyn, Germaine Hudson had appeared slightly relieved that she was taking time off in the first place, and as for the rest of the staff, they had either been threatened by Jac or had simply grown bored of the Katie Bell Drama Hour. Katie rather hoped it was the latter.

The aforementioned energetic brunette now appeared directly in front of Katie as she was turning the corner to head toward her desk.

"Hi," Jacquelyn said abruptly, spilling a bit of coffee out of her mug.

"Hello," Katie returned suspiciously, cleaning up Jac's mess with a flick of her wand. "What's going on with you?"

She had known her friend long enough to be aware that Jac was bursting to tell her something—either about a man or gossip about a coworker. In this case, and judging by the pink twinge in her cheeks, it appeared to be the former.

"Nothing with _me_," Jac hummed ridiculously. "But _you _have got a handsome Scotsman waiting for you at your desk this morning!"

Katie rolled her eyes. "Please don't tell me it's Oliver," she said.

Her friend blushed.

"Jac, _honestly_," Katie laughed. "Haven't you been around him enough by now not to go completely nutters when he comes 'round?" 

She looped her arm through her friend's and walked over to where Oliver was perched on her rather untidy desk space. He perked up when he saw her.

"Hi Kates," he grinned.

"Morning, Ol," she said. "Listen, could you do me a favor and stop doing whatever it is you do that turns Jacquelyn into a pathetic school girl?"

Jacquelyn now flushed a shade of intense red, smacked Katie on the arm, and marched around the corner. Katie just laughed as Oliver looked after her quizzically. Once she disappeared, however, his smile returned.

"Lunch again today?" he asked pleasantly.

"Sure," Katie said, sitting down and beginning to look through the contents of her inbox. "But I can't go out today, don't think I'll have the time. Meet you in the lunch room though?"

"Whatever you say, Bell," Oliver returned. "Well, off to practice, then." And he disappeared with a pop.

She and Wood had been sharing lunch together since she had returned to work, sometimes eating out, and sometimes sharing whatever he had managed to steal from his teammates. It was quite nice having someone to chat with who wasn't incessantly asking whether she had spoken to George Weasley yet. Oliver often turned up muddy or bruised from practice, but always with a grin and fresh subjects to discuss that were as non-George related as she could possibly hope.

Jacquelyn soon reemerged from wherever she had been hiding and took her seat next to Katie.

"I can't _believe_ you said that," she said grumpily, going through her own inbox.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Katie replied, feigning ignorance. "Now, you know Simon from upstairs? I was thinking we should talk to him about the Ministry revamp story…"

And with that, she launched forward into a full morning of work.

It was good to be back to living her life. With her old engagement ring now on a chain and close to her heart, Katie felt freer than she had in a long time. In a way, she felt Fred was still with her, though now not as restricting as his memory had previously been. She almost felt as if he were helping her somehow, an unseen presence giving her aid and comfort. Additionally, coming to Angelina had been the right choice. With her typical blunt and militia-like efficiency, she had forced Katie to see everyone she had been shunning. Though initially somewhat painful and incredibly uncomfortable, the breaches in her friendships and family had been swiftly healed. The only problem which remained unsolved was George.

Katie had wasted no time in cornering her brother to demand to know what had taken place between them at the Burrow. This required some measure of stealth, as she had to feign knowledge of the meeting from another source—she knew Michael would never come clean if she admitted to overhearing his conversation and snog fest with her best friend, and listening in without announcing herself. Pretending that Ginny had mentioned it to her, Katie had entered into the conversation on the following rainy Saturday afternoon from when she had stumbled over to Angelina's.

She had been helping Michael move his things back to his place at Kenmare House and the two Bell siblings had retrenched into lounging on the sofa in the living room.

"So what did you say to him?" Katie pressed. "You weren't rude?"

"When have I ever been rude?" Michael joked, avoiding his sister's piercing stare.

"Quit being cute, Michael," she said impatiently. "What did you say? Is he still mad at me?"

The elder sibling considered this carefully and finally said, "No, he's not."

"Well then?" Katie pressed. "Why hasn't he come to see me if he's not mad? He _must_ still be, I knew it."

"Katie—"

"You don't have to protect me, Michael, I can handle George Weasley's anger."

"Kates, he's _not _mad at you. Trust me."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Michael hesitated. "Because…I asked him to help me…I asked him to help me get you back."

Katie softened. "You did?" she asked quietly.

"Well, yeah. I missed you, Kates. The old you. I still do."

She was silent for a moment. "I do, too," she said finally. "But I'm trying now, Michael, that's the material point."

"Of course it is, baby sis," he agreed genially, back to his carefree manner. "And old George agreed to it, of course. He cares about you, Kates. I just don't think he knows how to show it."

Katie did not answer, but couldn't help repressing the thought, _If he cares about me, why won't he bother to come to me?_

"What was that yellow notice on your door earlier, anyway?" Michael continued casually. "I saw you try to hide it."

"Nothing," Katie said quickly. "It's nothing."

"_Please_, I've seen you lie from the time you were four. What is it?"

Katie sighed. "A form saying I have ten days to vacate my apartment before the management changes locks and apparition spells."

"_What_? Kates, why?! Haven't you been paying the rent?"

"I have," she said defensively. "It's not that. It's…"

"What?"

"It's Dad."

Michael darkened. "What about Dad?" he asked.

"They say they have a right to refuse housing to anyone whose family member is under investigation for dangerous crime."

"But that's ridiculous!" Michael exploded. "Dad was considered dangerous when Death Eaters were in the Ministry! He's all right now, they're just taking a while to sort it out!"

"Save your breath, I know that," Katie said irritably.

"Why on earth are you acting so calm? You're getting kicked out of your apartment!"

The younger Bell rolled her eyes. "McGill's not going to throw me out," she said, referring to her elderly landlord. "He only just found out about Dad, he's probably trying to get me to offer higher payment or something. It'll sort out."

"No it won't, Katie," Michael scolded. "This is the law, and if he's got a mind to toss you out, he can do it. It's not fair, but the law's on his side…you'll be out of a home if you don't do something."

"Just because you pretended you were a lawyer in your second year play doesn't mean you actually are one," Katie snapped. "This will blow over, just wait and see."

Michael shrugged, knowing not to argue with his sister when she was in a mood. Katie had then sunk down into the couch, pondering over George and feeling deeply hurt that he was going out of his way to avoid her. In the coming days, she would bristle at the mention of his name and snap at anyone who tried to get her to go to him. She refused to see someone who clearly wanted to toss their friendship out of the window.

XxX

_Miss Bell,_

_As I have warned you several times, I will be forced to enforce your removal from this premises this evening at 6:00, according to Magical Law Section 23, Clause 7. _

_Arturis McGill_

"What's that?" Oliver Wood asked cheerfully, throwing down a gym bag of Quidditch gear next to his chair as he sank down next to Katie. The bright cafeteria of the _Daily Prophet_ was bustling with activity, but Katie had chosen an empty table in the corner, further away from the noise.

"Nothing," Katie said quickly with a frown, shoving the notice back into her bag. _Surely this was all a ridiculous scheme to avoid rent control._

"Ol, you've got a bit of mud on your face," Katie said with a smirk, reaching over to wipe away the dirt on Oliver's left cheek with her thumb.

Wood flushed and laughed embarrassedly, looking Katie in the eyes a bit too long.

Caught off-guard, she met Wood's gaze. His friendly brown eyes looked at her warmly. He had not asked her out again or even hinted at anything romantic between the two of them, and Katie had begun to wonder whether he had given her up for good. Slightly relieved, but somewhat inexplicably alarmed, she had greeted the change in tone of their relationship in stride. Now he looked at her as though he had returned to wanting her. This look vanished in an instant, however, and was replaced with a grin and an amusing story about an elderly wizard who had accidentally wandered into their Quidditch practice, mistaking it for a dentist's office.

XxX

It was 5:30, just after the close of business for the day, and George was sitting in the back room, leaning over the counter and drumming his fingers repetitively. He felt he had been listless all day, and several times had Lee had to call him back to the present in order to help close a deal. Now he was at leisure to ponder over the source of his distraction.

"Lee," he said abruptly as the tall, dreadlocked wizard entered the room carrying a stack of boxes. "Did you turn down a job at the WWN because of me?"

Startled, Lee stopped in his tracks, sending the boxes flying.

"It's okay, you can tell me," George said calmly, stacking the boxes again with a flick of his wand.

"Did Ange tell you that?" he finally asked.

"It doesn't matter," the redhead answered. "Did you?"

Lee let out a heavy sigh and sat down in a nearby armchair, putting his face in his hands. George sank to the sofa.

"Don't lie to me, Lee," he warned. There was silence.

"Kind of," Lee finally answered. "I mean…it was that way at first. Or at least that's how I tried to justify it to myself. That I was worried about you being on your own and all that. But in all honesty…I was worried about me, too. I knew you had Ron and that you wouldn't be alone, but I hated the idea of staying by myself in my own piece of shit flat up town. Most nights I would lie awake thinking about—about Fred, and you, and me and how nothing could bring that back. Nothing. I missed that dynamic so much that I—well I wanted to be with you again, like back at Hogwarts. So I turned down the job offer and moved in here."

"It's not like back at Hogwarts," George said after a pause. "Nothing is."

Lee let out a hollow laugh. "You honestly think I don't know that?" he asked. "It's been rough. It's downright sucked some moments." He sighed and then stood up, clapping George on the back.

"But it hasn't been too bad, has it, mate?" He gave George a toothy grin.

George attempted to mimic the gesture. "No," he admitted. "No, it hasn't been bad at all."

"Well," Lee said, tugging on his jacket over his shop robes. "I'll be heading over to the girls' place for a while. Ange wants to make tacos tonight. You, uh…?"

"I'll be okay," George interrupted. "It's like you said, right? I've got Ron." George knew full well Ron had a date planned with Hermione for that evening, but he didn't care. He didn't mind the solitude, and definitely didn't want anyone fussing over him.

Lee shrugged. "Alright," he said. "See you later, mate."

"Later."

Something stopped Lee from going, however, and he hung in the door frame. George looked up.

"You should go see Katie," he finally said. It was stated more as a fact than a suggestion.

"Oh for Christ's sakes, Lee, not you too," George began grumpily.

"Give it a rest, George," Lee said, brushing his friend's interruption out the window. "And go." He narrowed his eyes. "I won't say it again."

And with that, he took off out of the shop. George sighed and sank back down into the sofa.

XxX

An hour later, George was up in the flat above his shop pulling on and off a myriad of different button-up shirts.

"You've got to be kidding, you look like a prat," he muttered at his reflection, tossing aside a shade of violent violet he hadn't worn since he and Fred were sixteen. "Nope, not this one either…"

Frustrated with himself, and realizing Katie had been home from work for nearly an hour now and might have dinner plans, he finally shrugged on a blue and white plaid shirt he had worn dozens of times before and set out into the evening.

George swore to himself as he disapparated and made the familiar walk over to Katie's apartment complex. He had purposely apparated a few blocks away to give himself time to mentally prepare for this. Much as he hated to admit it, he had wanted to see her. He was still angry at her refusal of seeing him—it had been nearly a month since he had come raging into her apartment, and still she had given him no sign of wanting to see him. Not that he could entirely blame her—but if she was making up with everyone else…

Trying vigorously to ignore the part of his mind which had been programmed to imagine what Fred would say in the situation, he ruffled his shaggy ginger hair and attempted to decide what he would say after knocking on her door.

_Hi Katie, I got an owl from Angelina saying…_

No. Clearly not.

_Kates! Guess who's heeeeeeeere._

Far too fifth year.

_Katie, look…_

But his preparations were interrupted by a sight he had not expected to see at all. Sitting all alone on the damp and dirty sidewalk sat the very Katie Bell he was coming to see, cheeks stained with tears and surrounded by a variety of odd boxes and suitcases. Without thinking, he ran up to her.

"Kates?" he asked warily. "Katie, what…?"

Katie looked up at him in surprise and anguish. Her green eyes were swimming with tears and she hugged her knees tightly to her chest.

"Katie, what on earth are you doing out here?" George asked, crouching down beside her. "And why's all your stuff in boxes? Are you…are you going somewhere?" he asked in dread.

She seemed unable to speak and simply shook her head vigorously. An irrational wave of anger swept through George. "Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "_Don't _tell me. I'll probably find out from Ange that you're vacationing in Santa Barbara for a month tomorrow…"

And with that, he straightened up and began to walk away. Katie's strained voice stopped him, however.

"George, I've been evicted," she said with a sob.

George's eyes widened. "What?" he asked, disbelieving. He rushed back to her side, putting his arm around her. "Are you kidding me?"

"_No_," Katie managed to get out. "It's—it's my dad! They say they can kick me out because he's still in Azkaban and they h-have reason to suspect me too, and I didn't do anything b-because I thought it was a ploy to get more r-rent money and—and—and now I have nowhere to go!"

She burst into a fresh series of sobs, slightly drawing away from George's protective grasp. George was utterly at a loss of what to say, however as she spoke, a somewhat ridiculous plan was formulating in the back of his head.

"Michael's in Quidditch housing for his team, and Angie and Al are full up and I could never, _never _ask my mother, I'd just die! And I don't know what to do, and—"

"Hey," George said calmly, determinedly retightening his grip on her shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous. You think we're going to let you live on the streets?"

"But what am I going to--?"

"Come live with me."

The words had escaped his mouth before they had had time to give meaning to his brain. Though it was what he wanted, he had not meant to give voice to them before he had thought it through. Katie looked up at him, bewildered.

"What?"

"Yeah," George said, more firmly now. "We can pull out an extra bed, Lee won't mind. Ron's still living at home, anyway. It will be fun. The three of us."

A wave of relief swept over Katie's face. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course," he said easily. "I'll even make dinner for you tonight. But mind, that's just a one time thing. You'll be cooking for Lee and I every night otherwise. Have to earn your keep and all that."

In spite of herself, Katie laughed. "Oh, George," she said, sinking into him and burying her head against his chest. "I've really missed you."

Surprised, George held her closer. "I've missed you too," he said quietly.

"I just don't know anymore with everything," she muttered against him. "Sometimes I wonder what's going to happen to all of us."

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly—more reassuringly than he felt. "I'll look after you."

He kissed the top of her head, and smoothed out her short, dark hair.

"I'll look after you."

And the pair sat in that attitude, huddled up on the dank and dirty sidewalk in a back alley of London, until the rain began once again to sprinkle the earth. Katie would live with him. He would help her. He could make this all work.

XxX


	28. House Warming

**A/N: I usually wait until I have at least 10 reviews to update, but I already had part of this chapter written & I figured I might as well finish it off. Thank you to all of you who wished me happy birthday, it was a pretty fantastic day—I ended up with 3 birthday cakes from friends. So—fat & happy—I've decided to give you a quick update! Enjoy!**

"You do realize that Katie practically lived with us our last year at Hogwarts, right?" asked Lee Jordan, who was currently leaning against the doorframe of his and George's bedroom, watching his best friend _scourgify_ every square inch of the place and readjust the new third bed endlessly. "She spent the night with Fred all the time. She knows we're not clean."

"I do realize that," George replied distractedly, testing the mattress for what must have been the fiftieth time. "I just think it's time we turned over a new leaf, that's all. Started afresh. Began again, and all that."

"And," Lee continued, unconvinced. "You realize that Kates isn't exactly the world's neatest person either?"

"She's neater than you," George pointed out, now beating the dust out of the curtains on the bay window. "Anyway, I'm not sure what you're lecturing me for, mate, I was the cleanest one in our dorm room."

"That isn't saying much," the dreadlocked wizard muttered. "In our seventh year, you kept doxey eggs under your pillow until they hatched. Filch had to call in a team of experts, and you got detention for a week."

George merely shrugged. "Still not as bad as the time you and Fred kept old butterbeer bottles full of urine on our windowsills because you refused to unclog the toilet."

"Oh yeah," Lee recalled fondly. "I think we finally paid a first year to do that for us…say, how did you get out of that?"

"Combination of the early stages of You-No-Poo and a carefully regulated school hour bathroom regiment," the redhead proudly declared.

The two friends laughed at this and various other memories until Lee glanced at his wristwatch.

"Blimey, George, we'd better get going," he said. "We promised the girls we'd be there at 6, and it's five after. And you know how Alicia is about the time."

George waved him off. "Nah, you go ahead of me," he said distractedly, now sizing up the far wall. "I'll be along later, I want to see if there's a way I can create a third closet here…maybe that expansion charm…"

Lee considered his best friend for a few moments in silence before rolling his eyes and giving up.

"Fine," he said. "But _you _can be the one to deal with it when Leesh screeches that we're not starting on time…"

"Fair enough!" George called after him.

XxX

Katie Bell had been staying with Angelina and Alicia for the few days in between when she was evicted and when George and Lee had cleared out a spot for her in their flat. Most of her boxes were already stacked in the back room of the shop; they were now simply waiting for the okay from George, who had most recently promised that tomorrow would be the day. Before Katie left, however, the girls had decided it would be a good thing to have everyone over to their apartment for dinner. Unfortunately, two of their party was missing. George was still obsessing over making the flat presentable, and Katie was in a late work meeting. The others were using this time to tease Angelina about the fact that her best friend would soon be moving in with her boyfriend. Alicia in particular seemed to think this very amusing.

"You've spent years denying you were attracted to Lee, and now he's paying you back by sharing a room with _your _old roommate!" Alicia giggled uncontrollably, slightly sloshing the red wine she had been drinking out of her glass.

Angelina scowled. "Give it a rest would you, wino?" she snapped. "I should have known never to give you control of the bottle…"

Alicia, who had always had a bit of a low tolerance for alcohol, simply giggled louder. "_Wino_?" she mocked. "Who are you, my fifty year old parents??"

Before Angelina could respond, however, Lee pulled her down onto his lap from where he sat in an overstuffed armchair.

"Come on, Ange," he chuckled. "You know it's just a temporary thing. And it's mostly for George. He's really looking forward to this."

"Humph," Angelina pouted, still not giving up the point entirely. "Well I still don't know why she can't stay _here_, instead. It's worked out just fine for the past few days!"

"Angelina, she's been sleeping on the sofa," Oliver pointed out, who was sitting on the opposite couch and supporting Alicia who was balancing between his shins on the floor.

"Yeah," agreed Lee. "And you and Leesh have just got the two rooms. Me and George at least have a third bed and closet."

"We could bring one in!"

"Where?" interrupted Alicia. "Both our bedrooms are small. And anyway, it's like Lee said…it's good for George! He needs company, and you've always got Lee over here…"

"And you're okay with this?" demanded Angelina, looking over at Oliver. "You're okay with Katie going to live with two blokes?"

Wood instantly flushed and looked away. "Why would it matter to me?" he said distantly.

"Oh cut the crap, Wood, we all know you fancy her," Ange said rather rudely, to which Alicia once more giggled. "You're not the least bit concerned she's staying in a bachelor pad…?"

"Well," Oliver said slowly. "It's like Jordan said, isn't it? S'only temporary…"

Lee laughed. "Yeah, well if I were you mate, I'd be plenty worried," he grinned. "Especially because of how George used to—"

But he was cut off by a very strong warning glance from Alicia, who had sobered up instantly.

"What?" demanded Angelina, noticing what was afoot. "How George used to _what_?"

"Nothing," Lee said quickly, retracting his steps. "Didn't know what I was saying…"

Wood looked curious in spite of himself. "What do you mean?" he demanded, suddenly snapping back into old Quidditch Captain mode. "Come on, out with it. Weasley didn't used to—you know—"

"Hello, everyone!" called a cheerful voice. The girl with whom the conversation had been concerned had just burst through the front door. Katie was flushed from the autumn chill outside, but looked particularly happy and was carrying what looked like a bottle of wine. "And guess what, Alicia? I've brought the red wine!"

"…_What_?" she demanded, crestfallen, when everyone groaned.

XxX

The next hour and a half found all six of the slightly inebriated dinner party gathered around the table and laughing raucously, while intermittently rubbing their stomachs and allowing their food to digest. George, who had finally managed to turn up a full thirty minutes late, was sitting with his arm friendly placed around Alicia, rocking back in his chair and discussing Quidditch with Oliver.

"But the point is, your Beaters are rubbish," George argued fervently, causing Alicia to jump. "Fredrickson isn't nearly fast enough, and Walters can't aim worth a damn. You're losing a valuable part of your team there—and you're having to block twice as many goals as you would if they were doing their jobs right!"

Wood simply laughed. "You think I don't know that?" he said, tossing back another glass of wine. "But I'm the Keeper, not the bloody captain anymore, and besides…it's hard finding Beaters who are as naturally good as you and Fred used to be…"

"Not the bloody captain, my arse," scoffed Katie, who was sitting beside him, examining the prongs on her fork with considerably more attention than she would have sober. "That never stopped you from trying to run the team when Charlie was captain…"

The table laughed, and Alicia giggled so long and hard that George had to grip her harder to ensure she didn't fall from her seat.

"I remember that, and I was only reserve that year," she cried gleefully. "You used to get Mike so riled up, he'd turn bright red and threaten to hang you from the hoops by your shoelaces!"

The table paused.

"Mike?" Lee asked, amused, and cocked an eyeball.

"Michael Bell," Alicia explained, flushing deeply. "Katie's brother…"

"I've never heard anyone call him Mike before, though, not even Kates," Lee said loudly.

Katie saw her friend exchange glances with Angelina, looking deeply frightened. George and Katie too looked at one another; George observed her questioningly, and Katie gave a small nod.

"Oh his friends call him that all the time," Katie lied blatantly, seeing Alicia relax and fall back into her seat. "Besides, Leesh is totally off her face."

After another burst of laughter, Wood turned to Lee and George. "So when are you two moving her in?" he asked. "Need any help?"

"No need to brag about your size, Ollie-wog," George smirked. "Just because you're twice as big as Lee or me…"

"Put together," Lee added. "Nah, we moved all her stuff in a few days ago. It's just sitting in boxes in the back room."

"Oh," Oliver said, looking slightly let down. "Well, good to hear."

"But the big date is tomorrow," Katie continued pleasantly, trying to dispel the moment. Wood had never gotten quite used to the twins' and Lee's constant jabbing during their school days. "What do you say, you two? Pizza for dinner? Or maybe…tuna casserole surprise? My treat!"

"That doesn't sound like a treat to me," Lee groaned, giving Alicia a significant look, who once again collapsed into a fit of drink-induced giggles.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Kay," George said suddenly. "Mum's having us all over for dinner. She _insists_," he added, noticing the expression on her face.

"I'm invited?" Lee asked, surprised. "Having you move in might be the best thing that ever happened to me, Kates. I normally don't ever get invited to the Burrow."

"Only because you nearly burnt it down with an illegal Dragon-Fire Jinx summer after Second Year," she pointed out, as George grinned at this memory.

"And besides the food, it's not all it's cracked up to be when everyone keeps staring at you to see if you're going mad," the redhead added, his own tongue slightly looser due to the effects of the wine. "Ain't that right, Kay?"

"Your mum's going to be having her eye on us all night, making sure we don't suddenly burst into tears at the sight of some old fork Fred may or may not have used once," Katie added, her speech too, slightly slurred, and the pair of them laughed merrily from across the table.

The others, however, did not seem to find this vein of conversation as amusing, and exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"Well," said Angelina, who had not spoken for some time, "before we let you all head off, we've got to give Katie her housewarming gifts!"

"Housewarming gifts?!" George shouted incredulously. "You never gave Fred or me housewarming gifts when we moved in…"

"Or me," Lee added, with a particularly poisonous look at his girlfriend.

"We knew you'd break anything we bought you," Angelina said simply, motioning to Alicia to help her with something from the back room. "Ollie, you can start with yours while we're getting ours."

"Well, let's see what you've got, Ollie-pop!" Katie said, grinning and folding her arms across her chest. "Dazzle me!"

"You know, I think I may have hit my quota on allowable 'Ollie' name calling for the night," Wood said grimacing, though his face was clearly cheerful. "Well, it's not much, but…"

But Katie was already ripping open the wrapping of the small gift Oliver had withdrawn from his coat pocket.

"This was from when we won the Cup!" Katie cried unnecessarily, extracting the framed photograph from its wrappings. Fred and George were carrying Harry on their arms, and all three Chasers were practically mauling Wood who had eyes only for the large golden cup he was clenching in his fists. "Oh, Ol, I love it! We'll hang it up right where everyone can see, won't we George?"

And without waiting for an answer, she leaned over and kissed Oliver on the cheek. He immediately flushed, and George cast a slightly darker glance between the two of them and said nothing.

"Here's my present, Katie Katie Kay!" Alicia giggled furiously, reemerging from the bedroom and flinging it on the table where it landed with a rather sickening crash. It wasn't wrapped.

"What in the bloody hell is this?" Katie asked, examining the boxy device.

"It's a television, you twit!" Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "A smaller version of the theater! And see, you can watch movies on it…"

"Thanks for spoiling my gift, Leesh," Angelina said ruefully as she dumped a pile of videos onto the table. Lee and George both crowded around Katie to examine both of these curiosities.

"_Pride and Prejudice?_" George said doubtfully, holding up a rather fat box with two Muggles in period clothing on the front cover.

"Alicia helped me pick them out," Ange said defensively. "And anyway, they're for Katie…"

"You'll share though, won't you?" Lee asked eagerly, poring over slightly more gender neutral titles.

"Course I will!" Katie grinned happily, turning around in her chair to hug her two girlfriends. "You lot are the best, I wasn't expecting anything…"

"Least we could do with your rotten luck lately, isn't it?" Angelina asked brightly, hugging her back. "You're welcome, Kates."

Katie and George in particular continued to examine the television and the accompanying videos for the next half hour, heads bent together, speaking in low voices and laughing excessively. The rest of the party retired to the living room where they played a rather ridiculous game of Exploding Snap. Wood, who had been observing Katie and George with somewhat of a frown, finally stood up.

"Well," he said in a rather forced pleasant voice. "It's getting late, and I've got Quidditch in the morning. Thanks for inviting me, Johnson. Er—I mean, Angelina…Alicia…"

They laughed and hugged Wood goodbye, but exchanged glances as he headed to the entryway. Noticing he was going, Katie leapt up from her chair and dashed over.

"Thanks again for the photo, Ol," she said sincerely. "It's the best copy I've got. I swear, it's going right on my night stand." She grinned and gave him a tight hug, standing on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek once again. Seeming slightly heartened, Wood grinned and shook hands with Lee and George—who had just come over—pleasantly.

Soon afterward, Lee and George filtered out, hugging each of the girls.

"I'll come get you tomorrow afternoon," George told Katie, grinning, as Lee and Angelina behaved stupidly in the corner. "We'll have whatever adventure awaits us at the Burrow, maybe stage some sort of a meltdown…"

But Katie, having sobered up slightly, frowned at this.

"Yeah, I know," George agreed quietly, sighing. "But it won't be bad. And then maybe we can watch one of Ange's videos, eh?"

She nodded fervently. "Yeah, let's do that," she said smiling. The pair hugged a final time, and the boys disappeared through the door.

It was only then that Katie and Angelina noticed that Alicia, who had headed over the couch after bidding the boys goodbye, had passed out and was now drooling on one of the cushions.

Rather than get exasperated as they would have only a few hours earlier, the girls simply laughed.

"God," Katie said, heading over the form that was obscured by a pile of blonde hair. "She'll never learn to hold her drink, will she?"

"Not while we know her, anyway," Angelina agreed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

The two ex-Chasers hefted up their small friend quite easily and carried her form to her bed in the back room.

"She won't be happy when she wakes up," Katie remarked, beginning to laugh, but Angelina didn't join in.

"Katie," she said, suddenly looking at her friend seriously, her face half-obscured by darkness.

"What?" Katie asked, slightly taken off-guard.

"Are you sure about this?" the other girl said. "Moving in with them, I mean?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Come off it, Ange, I'm not after Lee…"

"It's not Lee I'm worried about," Angelina said seriously.

"What?" Katie asked again.

"It's George. I don't know, Katie, the way you two were tonight…well, it made Wood uncomfortable at least…"

"And…?" she prompted, not quite grasping what her friend was trying to say to her.

Angelina simply shrugged uncomfortably. "I dunno, from his view it looked kind of suspicious I guess," she said. "I just wonder if you might be becoming too dependent on each other—and from something Lee was saying earlier it sound like—well, anyway, Katie. Be careful that…just be careful that that dependency doesn't turn into _physical _dependency. You know."

"What?!" Katie exploded, causing Alicia to grunt slightly. "Sorry," she muttered to her unconscious friend. "But seriously Ange, what? God, George and I are just...you don't even understand, do you?! He's _Fred's twin_ _brother_, for Merlin's sake! It's not physical, romantic, emotional, or anything you or Oliver might be thinking! I mean, yes, we may have gotten a little drunk tonight, but come on! Really? God, Ange, I thought _you _of all people would understand…"

"Okay, okay," Angelina said, backing off immediately. "I misread things then. I'm just worried about you, Katie. Both of you."

Katie sighed. "I know. Listen, is it okay if I use your shower tonight? I don't want to get up early tomorrow…"

"All yours," Angelina replied, watching her friend disappear through the door and sighing. Though she didn't know everything—or at least as much as Lee or Alicia knew—she had a feeling she might know a little more than Katie Bell did about where complicated grief and sharing living space with George Weasley was bound to head.


	29. Back to the Burrow

Katie hung behind George and Lee as they approached the Burrow, clutching the boysenberry pie she had traditionally bought from town. She looked up at the house skeptically as George gave a loud rap on the front door. It was one of the very few distinctions between the Weasley twins, Katie thought idly; Fred would have never presumed he needed to use the front door, let alone knock. He would have taken delight in Apparating as close to his mother as possible, terrifying her when she turned around. George was a bit more polite when left to his own devices—"a bit more" being the operative term.

"MUM!" said redhead bellowed through the door. "WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU? WE'RE FREEZING OUR BOLLOCKS OFF OUT HERE!"

"Speak for yourself, mate," grinned Lee, who was donning a ridiculously large overcoat which looked like it might have once belonged to Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. "My bollocks are nice and toasty."

"Too much, Lee," Katie grimaced, shoving her fists into her own pea-green parka. George took note of her and gave her a cheery grin.

"Come on, Kates, it won't be too bad," he said bracingly. "It's not as if you've holed up in your apartment by yourself and no one's seen you for a month…oh wait…"

She glared at him darkly as Lee gave a loud bark of a laugh.

"Why are you so merry all of a sudden?" she muttered, casting her gaze away from him.

George didn't have time to answer, however, as the door was thrown open and Mrs. Weasley appeared blocking both the view and the opportunity to think about anything else.

"Oh, _Katie_!" Molly gushed, throwing aside her own son and nearly knocking Lee off of his feet. "When George said you were coming, I wasn't sure, but--"

She descended on Katie, pulling her into a suffocating hug. Stunned, the Chaser nearly dropped the pie she was holding, staring in awe at George who was doubled over in silent laughter behind his mother.

Mrs. Weasley pulled back, beaming. "And how are you?" she asked in an overly-friendly voice.

"Fine," Katie said, in a small voice, still a little shell-shocked.

"Mum, I think you'd do better to let your guests come inside instead of assaulting them on the front porch," chuckled Bill, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway. He stepped out to assist Katie inside. "And perhaps you want to pay a bit of that attention to George? He is your son, after all."

"Oh, well, _yes_," Molly said, still flustered. She recovered herself and turned around, following the rest of them inside. "But of course, I almost didn't recognize him under that _mop _of hair, you really ought to let me cut it, George, dear…"

"Mum, we've been through this," George said irritably, jerking away from his mother who was curling the ends of his shaggy hair between her fingers and her wand. "I'm not exposing the world to the hole in the side of my head!"

"And he runs a joke shop," piped up Charlie, who appeared to be coming down the stairs. "Nobody wants to buy fake wands and sick sweets from a prat that looks like Percy…no offense, Perce."

"None taken," mumbled Percy from a corner in the parlor where he was holed up with a large book.

"You're still around then, eh?" grinned Katie as Charlie pulled her into a tight hug.

"Yeah, just for another week or so…" he answered happily. "Family'd like me here as much as possible, you know, but I'm wanting to be back to Romania soon. Your brother won't hear of it, of course."

"I should damn well think not!" called a voice from the parlor. Katie whirled around to greet her brother who was sitting on the floor, apparently entertaining Ron and Harry with some far-fetched Quidditch tale. "You'd do much better to sign on with the Kestrals, and live with me. Oh, hello, little sister."

"Michael," Katie greeted, crossing the living room and letting her brother kiss her swiftly on the cheek. "Is Mum around?"

"In the kitchen," he answered, winking. "Said she wanted to see you straight away."

"Of course," Katie answered, rolling her eyes slightly and exchanging a look with Michael. She crossed back through the entry hall where Lee was being reassessed by Mrs. Weasley who was looking at him with an apprehensive eye, and ignoring the greetings of Harry and Ron whom she still lacked the ability to speak with any degree of civility. It was ridiculous, Katie knew, but she could not help it. Little steps.

She pushed open the kitchen door, dreading the experience she was about to have. Her mother had been constantly berating her for her choice to live with George and Lee when her old bedroom at home was still vacant.

"Katie, dear," smiled Mrs. Bell, setting down the spoon with which she had been stirring the onion soup. Andromeda Tonks, a few meters beyond, lifted a hand in greeting. Katie smiled at her.

"Hello, Mum," she said with less pleasant tones as her mother swooped down and kissed her on the cheek. She took the pie from Katie's hands and set it on the counter.

"Moved in already this morning, then, did you?" Mrs. Bell asked stiffly, turning back to stir the soup.

"Yes, Mum," Katie answered. "And everything's quite lovely, so before you--"

"You know you'd have a whole room to yourself if you came back home. I've cleared out dozens of your old boxes and given the room a very nice deep clean…"

"Where's Aunt Liz?" her daughter interrupted, looking around.

"Oh, that," Mrs. Bell murmured, her lips slightly drawn. "She's out on a date."

"_What?_" Katie asked, incredulously. Elizabeth Garibaldi, on a date? The woman who was so formerly devastated by the loss of her husband and father? She frowned. She had always viewed Aunt Liz as something of a second self; she, Katie, could not imagine herself on a date so suddenly.

"Well don't look like that," snapped her mother. "It's been a full year since Martin died. Lizzy needs to get out. I support her one-hundred percent, and so should you. And before you get all uppity, Miss Kathryn, let's not forget who's been going out with Oliver Wood!"

"_Once_, Mum, _once_," Katie said, annoyed. Her mother had really become unbearable in the past week. Something about not being able to be the one her daughter had turned to and now, Katie suspected, her sister's getting out, had made Meda Bell a little shorter with everyone than she usually was. She had been extremely unhappy about Katie's being evicted—it had brought on the fresh reminder that her husband was still not returned to her five months after the war had ended.

"Sorry," interrupted Mr. Weasley, now emerging into the kitchen. He looked quite as thin and tired as he usually did. "But Molly insists everyone sit down at the dining table in five minutes, or I'm afraid this place won't seem nearly as pleasant."

XxX

The Burrow was quite as packed as it had been during its hay day: surrounding the table was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, Charlie and Michael, Ron and Harry, Percy, George, Katie, and Lee, Andromeda Tonks, and Meda Bell. Hermione and Ginny were both missing, as they had decided to complete their education when Hogwarts reopened last month. Baby Teddy Lupin sat in a high chair at the end of the table, his hair changing rapidly from a fireball yellow to bright orange. Katie let the myriad of conversations wash over her, sinking as low as she possibly could in her chair and sipping her soup in silence. George paused to give her an encouraging smile occasionally, but was being engaged in conversation with his two elder brothers. Lee, on the other hand, was quite preoccupied in what looked like making very certain he would not set anything on fire again.

Katie fiddle with her spoon listlessly, tuning in and out of the conversation around her before she was brought into it suddenly by Bill.

"So you lot managed to get all of Katie's stuff in that flat, then?" he asked conversationally. "Made it fit for human living and all that?"

"Are you kidding?" Lee laughed heartily. "I don't think George has stopped to do anything else in the past few days. Our lifestyle has been completely uprooted."

"Well zat is good," interrupted Fleur who had been listening to her husband's conversation. "Seeing as 'ow you lived before. Ghastly!"

"I think it's lovely," Katie said firmly. "I'm so glad I moved in."

George smiled at this.

"So there's three of you in there, right?" Charlie asked, dunking a large chunk of bread into his soup. "How's that? Tight squeeze?"

"Shouldn't be too bad," George answered. "Got an extra closet to fit in, and the room's pretty big…"

"If Kathryn would just move back home, she would have an entire bedroom to herself," piped up her mother from the opposite end of the table. George looked startled and Katie scowled. She was about to open her mouth when her brother did for her.

"Oh give it a rest, would you, Mum?" Michael said loudly. "Kates is almost 21, she doesn't want to live at home. And when have you started referring to your daughter as Kathryn? I almost didn't know who you were talking about…"

This outburst was met with widespread laughter and served to mollify George who had momentarily lost his pluck for the day. Mrs. Bell simply sniffed and entered into conversation with Mrs. Weasley about how difficult it was to have children away from the home. Katie sighed and rolled her eyes once again, turning back to the bowl of soup and bread before her.

"Your mum certainly seems to be in a mood," George said in a low voice, winking. "Now I know her real opinion of me."

Katie made no answer apart from a small burst of air and got up to clear her plate.

XxX

The dinner party disbanded and migrated to the parlor while the dishes did themselves in the kitchen. George was entertaining a vast majority of the party by demonstrating his latest product—chewing gum that intermittently changed the color of one's hair. Teddy Tonks seemed to be especially enthralled; from where he sat in his grandmother's lap, his large blue eyes were wide. He stared transfixed at George as if horrified that someone else shared his own special abilities.

Fleur was characteristically talking over the top of everyone in loud, rapid French with Bill, and Percy retired from the room, carrying his book underneath his arm. Michael and Charlie were chatting and casually passing a Quaffle between the two of them, much to the dismay of Mrs. Weasley who kept glancing nervously at her collection of porcelain cats. Feeling slightly alienated from the room, Katie got up, made some quick excuse about needing some fresh air, and stepped outside slipping into her parka once again.

The autumn breeze was biting and Katie shoved her hands into her pockets, wishing idly that she had thought to bring a pair of gloves. She wandered without any real sense of purpose into the orchard behind the house, trying not to think of the many times she and Fred had been out here to play Quidditch, or otherwise.

The air inside the Burrow had been suffocating. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother's relentless campaign to keep her at home, or the ever-present void that had been there since Fred died. Hell, even Fleur Delacour—now Weasley's—inability to read social context in any setting had been more off-putting than usual. Katie was simply annoyed, but could not put her finger on the reason. She longed, even stronger than she usually did, for Fred's simple presence beside her: the feeling of his fingers through her own, the sound of his steady breathing, and even just the knowledge that he had known he was meant to follow her outside. She pulled her coat tighter around her body and walked on through the peach trees, now devoid of both their leaves and their fruit.

In her most honest of hearts, Katie knew she was annoyed at the lack of attention George had been paying her tonight. She had grown used to the pair of them hiding in an obscure corner while the rest of the party buzzed on and fussed over whether or not they were feeling comfortable. Now, inexplicably, George had seemed to find a bright spot. She had never seen him happier since Fred's death than the last week. They had never once brought up the subject of their fight inside her bedroom and for that, Katie was glad, but she could not help feeling a strong twinge of jealousy at his newfound cheerfulness. She had been left to feel unhappy alone. It was selfish and unreasonable, she knew, to wish George back to the solemn figure he had been a month ago. But now she couldn't help feeling that maybe her own melancholy was unwarranted.

Katie was musing over these thoughts when she turned the corner and to, her great surprise, discovered Percy on his own and sitting on a large rock beside a row of trees. His hands were cupping his face, knocking his horn-rimmed glasses slightly askew, and was staring into the distance obviously deep in his own thoughts.

"Percy?" Katie said tentatively, not particularly wanting to speak to him, but feeling it would be rude if she simply walked away. Percy stirred out of his torpor and looked up at her, surprised.

"Oh, hi Katie," he said uncertainly. "Er…what are you doing out here?"

Katie shrugged. "Fancied a walk I suppose," she answered. "And you?"

"It was getting a little warm in there," he stated. "Do you, erm, want to sit?" He moved over slightly, allowing Katie room beside him on the large, smooth stone.

Unsure of why she was doing so, Katie nodded and sat beside him. They sat in silence for a moment, allowing her time to reflect at just how odd it was that she was spending her night at the Burrow next to who had always been her least-favorite Weasley sibling.

"I can't figure out why George is so cheerful all of a sudden," Katie said, breaking the silence. She was surprised at her own forthcoming. "D'you know?"

Percy turned to look at her with a rather strained look on his freckled face. "George and I don't really talk," he said finally. "Rather, I can't really talk to him…"

"Why?" she asked curiously, in spite of herself. "George doesn't really, you know…hold _grudges_…" She finished uncomfortably, remembering just how angry both Fred and George had been at Percy for several years for his desertion of the family. But they had forgiven him just as quickly, and she had never seen or heard of George speaking ill of his next-oldest brother since. She was confident this apprehension was misplaced.

Percy gave a hollow laugh. "Still…" he said.

Katie sighed and nodded. "Yeah," she answered in agreement. "Yeah, I can't really talk to Harry Potter anymore either."

Again, they sat in silence contemplating the implications of this fragmented conversation. Percy picked up a fallen tree branch next to him and began to idly draw lines in the dirt.

"You know, I reckon Fred would've never wanted to be the reason people don't speak to one another," Katie mused suddenly.

Percy shrugged. "You're probably right," he answered without elaborating.

"Perhaps we should try?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He turned to meet her gaze and sighed.

"I suppose you're right," he nodded, straightening his glasses. "Shall we go in?"

Katie followed his lead and the pair of them walked back toward the glowing lights of the Burrow.

"So you're back at the Ministry, right?" she asked conversationally. "International Wizarding Diplomacy, I hear. That's pretty impressive."

"Yes," Percy answered excitedly. "The opportunities are incredible, only just yesterday…"

And the pair continued chatting all the way back to the house.

XxX

"There you two are, we've been wondering!" Mrs. Weasley said, chiding Katie and Percy as they came through the back door. The rest of the party looked up curiously. "Where have the pair of you been?"

"Erm…" Katie struggled. "Perce was just showing me the, er…"

"The new shed," he answered with finality, and walked over to his younger brother. He sat down beside him and examined a stick of the gum George had previously been demonstrating. "This is pretty impressive," he said, much to George's shock. "What did you use, a Disillusionment Charm?"

"Bloody Percy," Katie growled under her breath. "I didn't think we were supposed to start tonight!"

However, she took a great gulp of breath and walked over to where Harry and Ron were chatting next to the fire.

"Heya Harry," she said in the most casual voice she could muster. She slid down the back of the couch, folding her legs beneath her to join them. "How's it going? You miss Ginny now that she's back at school?"

XxX

Mrs. Weasley had sent everyone home but George, who looked as if he were in for something deeply unpleasant. Michael had once again protected Katie from her mother, and the rest of the crowd dispersed without incident. Katie and Lee Disapparated together back to their flat, and she climbed the stairs to spend the first night in what was to be her new—although temporary—home. Lee collapsed on his bed and fell almost straight to sleep, snoring loudly, his stomach full of food.

Molly had sent them home with enough food to feed an entire army for weeks. Katie did her best to shove the extra leftovers into the fridge, but was reduced to transfiguring the freezer into a little bit larger of an ice box. Determined to wait up for George, feeling it would be rude to do otherwise, she showered and pulled on her robe. Drying her dark hair with a towel, she went to her new closet and rummaged through her things, looking for pajamas. Suddenly remembering that she had not yet unpacked that particular box, she sighed and moved to George's closet. She doubted he would care very much if she borrowed his things.

Katie pulled out a pair of blue striped pajamas and hurriedly dressed. They were ridiculously long. The top hung down almost to her knees, and to try and wear the pants was fruitless. She balled them up and threw them back into George's closet and went to sit on her bed in order to wait for him.

It didn't take long. Within five minutes, Katie heard banging noises on the stairs and George appeared in the room, a paper bag over his head.

Katie laughed loudly in spite of herself. Lee gave a loud grunt and rolled over. "_Muffliato_," Katie said, flicking her wand lazily in Lee's direction, using a spell Harry had told her about only that evening.

"George, what the hell are you doing?" she asked, amused, crossing the room to where he was standing defiantly. "That that thing off your head."

"No," he said firmly. "Never. Never again."

"What's your mum done? She finally corner you with a pair of scissors."

"_No_," George said again, trying to dodge Katie who was attempting to remove the bag. His lack of sight prevented him from being successful, however, and she managed to whip the thing off in a matter of three seconds.

Katie let out a howl of laughter as she stared at George who was currently sporting a bowl-shaped haircut, the hole where his ear used to be covered by a bandage.

"Look what she's done to me!" George said angrily. "This is the haircut she gave Fred and me when we were seven! _It's lovely, George dear_!" he continued in an uncanny impression of his mother. "_You look miles better…let's just cover this up here…a bandage will do just fine_. Look at me, Kates, I'm ruined!"

"No, you're not," she laughed sportingly, inspecting the damage. "I mean, as much as I'd love to see you like this for the rest of your adult life, I'll probably be seen with you at some point, so we really need to fix this."

"You mean you can do something about it?" George brightened. "What?"

"Hmm…" Katie mused. "Well remember that hair thickening charm Snape thought Alicia had tried to use when Montague hexed her seventh year? That might work…"

"And you know how to do it?"

"The basic idea…anyway, you can't exactly look any worse, can you?"

"Oh, fine," he muttered. "Try it then."

Katie repeated the spell under her breath, using her wand to lengthen bits of George's hair at a time until it was just long enough to cover his one ear. It was still fair to his casually disheveled look, but not nearly as messy as it had been before Mrs. Weasley cut it.

"There," Katie said. "Go and see."

George crossed the room eagerly to the mirror, and grinned at his reflection.

"Thanks, Kates," he said happily, giving her a tight hug. "Nice pajamas, by the way…"

"Oh, right," Katie said embarrassedly. "Well we haven't unpacked mine yet, and I thought…"

"You look smashing," George interrupted, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Now just let me change and we'll have our movie night."

"What?" Katie asked, confused.

"Oh come now," George said, turning back to her. "Alicia's television and videos. We said we'd try one tonight."

"Oh, right," Katie said, smiling slightly. "I'd forgotten."

"Blasphemy!" George accused pleasantly. "Go pick one out while I undress."

Katie busied herself with the video machine while George undressed at his closet. She reflected mildly that three years ago when they were in Hogwarts he had used to strip down to his boxers without a second thought, throw them on the floor, and climb into bed, all in her presence. And, sitting on Fred's bed, she had never thought anything of it. Now, suddenly, they both looked away uncomfortably. She shook her head, selected a video, and figured out how to program the television. Alicia had done several clever things to it to ensure it could sit in the middle of their room on the coffee table without any wires or outlets.

"We'll have to push our beds together," Katie called, surveying the room. "Or else you can't see."

"Fine," George answered, emerging from his closet. He wore a t-shirt and the pajama bottoms Katie had discarded. He grinned at her as the pair of them pushed George's bed over to join Katie's and they clambered on top.

"What have you chosen tonight?" he asked as the screen flickered on.

"Something called _The Graduate_," Katie answered. "Alicia said it's supposed to be funny."

"Excellent," George answered, settling in beside her. "You smell nice, by the way."

Katie laughed a little. "Thanks," she said. "Hey…George?"

"Yeah?" he returned, looking over and surprised to see her looking slightly troubled. "What is it, Kay?"

"I was only wondering…" she answered slowly. "Well. Why is it you've been in such a great mood lately? It seems a little…odd."

George looked surprised. "Really?" he asked. "I thought it was obvious."

Katie shook her head.

"I'm happy you're here," he answered simply. Katie flushed, suddenly deeply ashamed of herself.

"_Oh," _she said slowly. "Right."

"I'm _really_ glad you're here," he emphasized, grinning and placing his arm around her.

Katie half-smiled. "Me too," she answered, moving in closely to him. She suddenly laughed.

"What?" George asked.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, still amused. "It's just that last night Ange warned me that us living together would compound our grief and drive us to shag, or something like that. And here we are happier than ever."

George started for a moment, and then seemed to will himself to relax. He laughed.

"Angelina Johnson has always been just a little bit off her nut."


	30. Life Above a Joke Shop

**A/N: This is a bit of a builder chapter, but it's an important one for what's to come. As always, thanks in advance for your wonderful reviews!**

George Weasley stirred in his sleep. A few raindrops had escaped the opening in the large bay window of his flat and slid down to his forehead. Grumbling slightly and drying his face with the back of his hand, George propped himself up on one elbow and closed the two inch gap between the window and the wall. The day was typically London-esque; the sky was overcast and the drizzle of rain pattered against the rooftop. The combination of this and the fact that it was an early Sunday morning led George to want nothing other than to hole back up beneath the covers and sleep another solid three hours. In fact, he was about to do so when something stopped him.

Sleepily, George had lifted his blankets in order slip beneath them once more, and idly noticed that his and Katie's beds were still pushed together. They must have fallen asleep before the movie ended last night. He turned to observe her and suddenly found himself curiously drawn to her form. She was still blissfully asleep, her face serene and calm, eyelids closed. She had kicked off her blankets in the night and was huddled with her knees drawn to her chest, George's nightshirt obscuring her hands and fingers. Her hair, which had grown slightly longer in the last month, had dried in waves and hid part of her face, though he could still see her cheeks flushed with sleep and her lips red. He watched her for a moment, chest rising and falling slowly with her breathing, appreciating the way the soft blue stripes of his shirt looked against her olive skin. His shirt. Somehow, this fact made him smile slightly.

Then he realized what he was doing. Suddenly, a flash of Fred's face and the thought of what his brother would say if he could see into his thoughts at the moment burned in his brain. Horrified and incredibly angry with himself, George determinedly rolled over and threw the covers over his head and shut his eyes.

His twin brother had only been dead for half a year, and already he was behaving like a giant prick.

XxX

The next time George awoke, it was to the smell of smoke billowing through the small flat and the sound of vigorous cursing.

"Oh fuck! Oh, _fuck_!"

Bewildered, the redhead threw off the covers and looked around wildly. Lee was still asleep, curiously dead to the world. In the kitchen, Katie was waving a saucepan about in a ridiculous manner in an effort to clear the kitchen of smoke. Something on the stove was obviously burning, and badly at that. Amused in spite of himself, George got up and heaved the windows open to release the smoke and then walked over to where Katie was standing, utterly defeated. She set the saucepan back on the stove and slid down the refrigerator into a pathetic heap. A dozen eggshells and what looked like some sort of orange substance was strewn across the kitchen tile.

"Erm…Kay?" George began tentatively. "I don't mean to be accusatory, but what the hell happened in here?"

"Was cooking," she replied in a small voice. George did his best to suppress a laugh he very much wanted to let out.

"Yeah, I see that," he continued. "Then what?"

She looked up at him ruefully.

"What's it look like?" she said, a hint of steeliness to her tone. "Everything exploded!"

She sighed, and ran her hands through her yet uncombed hair. "I just thought I'd try to do something nice for you and Lee, for taking me in and all, and cook breakfast. And of course, it blows up in my face—literally! I've never been good at household spells, so I tried to do it the Muggle way and it was like everything I learned in Muggle Studies just sort of…"

She made a motion with her hands to signify what looked like evaporation.

The disgusted look on her face brought George so near bursting out with laughter that it took all he had not to take the mickey out of her.

"S'okay, Kates," he said bracingly. "You were always rubbish at Muggle Studies anyway, yeah? None of us would have expected different." _Ok_ay_. So maybe he couldn't entirely dismiss the urge._

Katie responded by glaring at him.

"Right," he said quickly. "Sorry. Er…but it's not that big of a deal, is it? I mean, so you smoked up the flat…it's nothing Fred or I haven't done a thousand times before."

She seemed unconvinced, and snorted in derision. "I didn't _just _smoke up the kitchen," she opined.

George raised an eyebrow. "You didn't?"

"Ugh!"

Katie now pushed out her legs and threw up her arms so that she was lying on the kitchen floor.

"What?" her friend prompted.

She closed her eyes. "There's all this stuff on the floor," she said mournfully.

This time, George really did laugh. Katie's eyes immediately flew open and she glared up at him scornfully.

"I'm sorry," he said, attempting to restrain himself and failing miserably. "I'm sorry. Look Kay, tell you what. Why don't you get up and put on some clothes and we'll all go out for breakfast? Armando's Diner is just around the corner, and I'll even let you pay since I'm short on Galleons at the moment…that is, we could if Lee ever woke up…honestly, I've _never _seen him sleep through something like this. And that includes the time Fred and I let Cornish Pixies loose in the dorms…"

Katie seemed to suddenly realize something, and sat straight up.

"Uh-oh," she muttered, looking around for her wand and grabbing it off of the kitchen counter. She pointed it at Lee. "_Finite!_"

"I cast a spell on him last night so he couldn't hear anything," she explained to George's laughter.

At this, Lee stirred in his sleep and eventually sat up. Upon seeing the smoke, he looked around wildly.

"Blimey!" he cried. "Has someone got a baby dragon in here?"

Katie stalked off to her closet.

XxX

The next three weeks of October passed away pleasantly for both Katie and George. They would eat breakfast together—sometimes with Lee, sometimes not depending on where he spent the night—then Katie would dash off to the Daily Prophet offices and George and Lee to the shop. She would come home in the afternoons, sometimes help out if it was a particularly busy day, and then the three of them would cook a low maintenance dinner. Afterward, Lee would dash off to Angelina's and George and Katie progressively worked their way through the pile of films Alicia had given Katie when she moved in. Indeed, neither one of them had much time for anyone else but one another. They stayed in on weekends, declined most invitations from friends, and aside from the occasional obligatory dinner at the Burrow saw almost nothing of anybody. Katie found the whole routine a wonderful one. To Angelina and Alicia, however, it was slightly more troubling and, Angelina being Angelina, decided to do something about it.

"I'd steer clear of your cubicle if I were you," Oliver Wood said to Katie one day, who was on her way to drop off a research file before retreating to the cafeteria with the Puddlemore Keeper.

Katie stopped in her tracks and raised an eyebrow. "Why?" she asked warily, teetering on her black heels. Most of the attention which had been focused on her after Fred's death had dissipated, but there were some diehards who had heard of her self-imposed hiatus and were anxious to turn it into another story.

Wood's answer turned out to be a different, though nonetheless threatening source of anxiety.

"Angelina and Alicia are hanging around waiting for you," he replied, leaning casually against one of the filing cabinets and gazing down at her. His hair was windswept from practice and his face wore a rather amused expression. "They say you haven't been answering their owls."

Katie rolled her eyes, but avoided Wood's gaze. "They seem to think there's some sort of problem with George and me being mates," she answered coldly. "Even though we've _clearly _been fine. Neither one of us has had a br—well, you know, _problems _since we've been living together!"

Oliver shrugged, but seemed to have an opinion he was keeping to himself. "Either way, they look as if they're out for blood, so I think if we want to sneak out, we ought to—"

"_There _you are."

The pair jumped and turned around to see Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet standing with their arms folded across their chests. Alicia was tapping her foot impatiently and Angelina wore a small frown.

"You couldn't possibly have been tipping her off about us being here, could you have, Captain Wood?" asked Angelina accusatorily.

"Right, well, you three look like you have a lot of catching up to do," Wood said quickly with the unmistakable look of someone who had been cornered. "Kates, I'll see you around."

Katie was about to open her mouth to protest this unfairness when, surprisingly, her need was negated by Alicia

"Now wait just a minute, you," she said, catching him by the scruff of his neck. This was a remarkable feat as Wood was a full six foot two and Alicia was barely over five feet herself. Wood looked rather taken aback.

"We want to speak to you, too," she said firmly. "_You _wait here." And with even more unexpected strength, she shoved him down into a nearby chair and she and Angelina grabbed Katie under the arms and dragged her into a nearby vacant copy office.

"Thanks," Katie said, voice dripping with sarcasm after she was deposited into a chair. She folded her arms and awaited whatever accusation about her life they were intent on imparting that day.

"We're here to save you from yourself," Alicia began cheerfully, looking at Ange for approval. The latter nodded.

"Alright," the accused continued in the same false manner. "May I ask how I'm messing up this time?"

"Don't be like that," Angelina snapped suddenly. "We're legitimately concerned; the least you could do would be to stave off the inclination to give us cheek."

"Fine, cheek gone," Katie returned. "I know this is about George, so let's have it. I haven't slept with him, by the way."

Ange simply glared at her. Katie sighed.

"I'm done, I'm done," she promised. "What's wrong with my hanging around George?"

"Nothing," the taller girl said sincerely. "It's lovely. I just want both of you to have other people in your lives. You've been ignoring all of us. It's just another form of hiding."

"How is it hiding?" her friend complained, well aware she knew exactly why it was hiding—that was the reason she was doing it.

"Because when you're with each other, you don't have to let anyone else in," Alicia piped up. "And you don't have to deal with people wondering about how you're coping with Fred's death."

Alicia had hit the nail on the head and Katie had no room to argue anything. She sat in silence.

"Well it's one step better than not dealing with anyone," she finally said.

Her friends exchanged glances.

"Well that's true," Angelina began. "But don't shut _us_ out, Katie. Come dancing with us this weekend. That's what we came to ask. Let's just get all gussied up and go to a bar like we used to. Girls' night."

Katie scoffed. "Yeah, that sounds great. I'd love to put on a tight fitting dress and go flail about like a twit while some Senor Gross slides his hands over my arse. Count me in."

Ange frowned. "You used to love going dancing."

"I used to not have a dead fiancé," she answered bluntly.

"You're going, and that's all there is!" Alicia suddenly interrupted shrilly. The force of her demand took both her friends aback and they stared at her.

"Okay," Katie finally agreed. "Dancing this weekend. I suppose the lads aren't invited? A little George-free event, am I right?"

"An _everyone_-free event," Angelina stressed. "It will be fun. You'll see."

"Whatever," Katie answered, completely unenthused. "Just so you know, George and Ron and Lee are planning a big Halloween party at the shop…am I allowed to go?"

"They are?" Ange asked, surprised. "Lee never said anything about it."

"It's kind of a new idea."

"Of course we're going!" Alicia said, sounding delighted. "Knowing them, it's going to be the party not to miss. Remember the twins' sixteenth? Half the castle was hung over for a week afterward!"

"Right," Katie cut in shortly. "Am I dismissed then? Oh, and why do you need Oliver?"

Alicia shrugged. "I just wanted to scare him. Send him in anyway, though, okay? I'll see if I can get him to do my laundry or something…"

Katie retreated and exchanged an exasperated glance with Wood, who gave her a half smile and walked in to see his remaining ex-Chasers.

XxX

"I don't know," Wood said doubtfully after Angelina and Alicia had divulged their plan to him. "I'm not really keen on the idea of ambushing Katie somewhere she thinks is safe."

"But that's the brilliance of it!" Ange urged, the exuberance in her eyes reminding Wood of her old zeal on the Quidditch pitch. "It's _not_ safe. Not really, anyway. It's always Douche Bag Night in London pubs. Especially wizarding ones. Then you'll appear and represent everything that's right with men!"

"And the point of this is to…?"

"Open Katie's eyes to the possibility that there's decent people besides George Weasley who are there for her."

"And why are you picking me? I mean, can't Lee do this? Or Michael? Why do you even need it to be a bloke?"

"Because she thinks Ange and me are too abrasive," Alicia explained gently. "Or at least Ange, anyway. And there's something comforting about the presence of a man when you're feeling a bit off kilter. Michael's her brother, and Lee's her roommate. You're a whole different picture. And besides, you fancy her, don't you?"

Wood felt himself grow warmer in the cheeks, but brushed it off. "There's no use pretending I don't anymore," he admitted. "But look, girls, I really don't know if this is the right solution. I mean, Katie trusts me…at least right now. It took a lot of work to get to the point where she'd have lunch with me. I don't want to lose that."

"You won't be losing it," Angelina said simply. "You'll be building on it."

Wood shook his head. "Katie's smart. She'll see right through it."

"She won't!"

Frustrated, the Puddlemore Keeper locked his jaw and admitted something he didn't want to admit. "Look," he said. "I agree with you that her spending all her time with George probably isn't the greatest thing in the world. But if it helps her, why tamper with it? She told me herself she hasn't had any…I think she was going to say _breakdowns…_since she moved in with him. What if it's the right thing and we don't see it?"

"But it isn't," Angelina persisted stubbornly. "Katie's not clearheaded enough to be able to judge her situation. She locked herself in her bedroom for ages not four weeks ago!"

Wood considered this, and Alicia leapt on this contemplation.

"You want to help her, don't you, Ollie?"

"Okay," he said finally, quietly. "I'll come. But if she doesn't want to see me there, I'm not staying. Is that clear?"

"Fine," they both agreed. Oliver sighed, and got up to go back to practice.

XxX

Katie let herself into the shop after a rather late work meeting that evening. George was in the back going over the books, and Ron was cashing out the till before leaving for the new London flat he shared with Harry Potter. Judging from what she heard and smelled coming from upstairs, Lee was making dinner for the three of them.

"So I guess I'm not allowed to see you anymore," she declared, flopping down on one of the couches and staring up at her redheaded friend.

"Yeah, I figured," George answered grimly, greeting her with a nod. "You being whisked away Friday, too?"

Katie nodded. "Where are they taking you?"

"Wigtown Wanderers match," he said, his eyebrows knitting together over an apparently difficult sum. "Me, Lee, your brother, maybe Charlie, and some mates from school."

"Charlie's coming back again already?"

George shrugged. "He wanted to come in anyway for the Halloween party. Bringing a girl from Romania, apparently."

Katie nodded. "We forgot to tell Ange and Al about the party, by the way," she said suddenly.

"Oh, yeah…" George trailed off. The pair looked at one another, and Katie sighed.

"Maybe it's best we spend some time apart, then," she suggested.

George looked up, startled, but seeing that she was at least semi-in earnest, looked back down again quickly.

"Yeah, maybe," he said in what he hoped was a casually disaffected tone. "Do you want to help Ron with the till? I've got to focus on these books…"

Katie looked back at him with a slightly surprised expression on her face, but muttered a hurried, "Of course," and exited the room. George watched her go and let out a huge sigh, letting his face sink into the palms of his hands. The ink from the quill he was holding suddenly oozed out across his freckled face. George gave it a thoroughly disgusted look and hurled it across the room, where it exploded against the wall.

He swore and slammed the books shut.

XxX


	31. Apart, Part I

**A/N: Once again, I failed to include everything I wanted to in this chapter, which means that this particular episode is just going to have to stretch across two parts. Sorry for that, but I really wanted to get all of this in…and to those of you who have been asking for more about George's school days crush on Katie, you'll find a little bit more in this update! As always, I hope you read & enjoy…and I'd appreciate a short review if you have the time. Love to hear that people are still reading. Cheers!**

Friday came rather too quickly for Katie Bell's liking, and before she knew it, she was sitting on Alicia's bed watching her two friends throw piles of clothing from Alicia's closet onto the floor. It was about half past nine and Alicia, who had never possessed the ability to select an outfit entirely on her own, was discussing in great length the pros and cons of each article of clothing with Angelina, who was already dressed. Privately, Katie thought this show rang a bit false in light of the fact that Alicia was currently quite content in a relationship with Katie's own brother, but as she wasn't supposed to be privy to this knowledge, she kept silent. Finally, a miniskirt and a sequined top were selected, and the two girls turned their attention to their friend on the bed.

"That's really what you're wearing?" Angelina asked roughly.

"Yep," Katie responded carelessly. She had dressed that evening with rather little thought: a pair of tighter fitting jeans and a black top with black heels. She figured she had done well to include the heels.

"You should wear a dress," Angelina urged. "You never dress up anymore."

"I dress up for work," Katie pointed out.

"Yeah, drab colors and sexless blouses. What if you meet a cute bloke tonight?"

Katie's eyes narrowed. "I thought this was supposed to be a girls' night."

"It _is_," Alicia said sincerely. "But what if someone like, oh, a professional Quidditch player happens to come in? You'll want to look sexy!"

"My brother is a professional Quidditch player," her friend retorted, "and I've met most of Michael's friends, and they're all self-obsessed pricks, or crashing bores. I don't give a damn what I look like."

"Then put this on," Angelina argued, tossing her one of Alicia's dresses. It was strapless and pink. Katie crinkled up her nose immediately.

"Ange, this is ghastly," she said, horrified. "No offense, Alicia…"

"Wear it," Angelina returned definitively. "Or we go to a male strip club."

Katie threw a very loud tantrum all the way down the hall to the bathroom door, which she slammed shut. She did, however, change into the dress.

XxX

Dressed in her least favorite color and wearing more makeup than she had in about three years, Katie followed her two best friends into the smoke-filled bar they had chosen. It was located in a more seedy area of Diagon Alley, and the atmosphere was still questionable at best. The girls weren't willing to blow an entire week's paycheck on a classier version of the same experience.

The bar, renovated after the war's end and rechristened _Victory Villa_, was full of witches and wizards in lurid clothing, blaring music, and cheap-smelling beer. Angelina and Alicia, she could tell, were trying to make the situation out to be better than it was. Wearing overly enthusiastic grins, the pair of them squeezed through the mass of people and made their way to the dance floor. Katie could not think of a single place where she would be less happy being. More to appease her friends than herself, she joined them in dancing to a fairly popular song now booming from the speakers. Men bobbed around them; Angelina would smirk coquettishly and shake her finger at them, and Alicia would grin and shake her head "no." This did not do much to keep them from dancing with Angelina, however. Whenever the girls had gone out before the escalation of the war, she had been the queen of the night clubs. Most of her dates were men she had met at bars like this one. Alicia, perhaps, simply seemed too wholesome for her own good.

"Hello, love," said a particularly slimy looking bloke into Katie's ear, placing his hands on her hips. "Let me buy you a drink?"

She made no attempt to hide her disgust. "_No_," she said pointedly.

"One dance then, eh?"

"_No!_"

The man, looking affronted, gave her a nasty look and disappeared into the crowd. Alicia looked reproachful.

"Katie," she shouted over the music. "Be nice! Most men assume women whocome here _want _to dance with them."

Katie just shook her head. She knew she was being a crashing bore, but she didn't care. Bobbing slightly to the music, she gazed out into the crowd of desperate men and women and felt an overwhelming feeling of loneliness wash over her. A year ago, she would have been as shameless as Angelina now was, knowing that she had Fred Weasley to come back to. Nothing had mattered when someone had loved her. Someone who smelled of mince pies and firecrackers, and not of stale beer and bad cologne. She closed her eyes, swaying slightly, desperately trying to remember what it had felt like to have his arms around her waist; what it was to know she had his chest to lean against, his chin to tuck over the top of her head. Had she forgotten so quickly?

Before she knew it, Katie was shaking. _What was she doing here? _She dug her fingernails into her palms, willing herself to swallow back the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. She would steel herself to this, she must. She would give her friends what they wanted—a Katie who was trying, at least outwardly, to live a life. Even if just for a night. She _would _get through this, she _would_.

XxX

Giving a particularly teasing smirk to the bloke who was now running his hands along her hips and laughing inwardly at what Lee would look like if he could see this, Angelina Johnson alternately watched the entrance and Katie Bell from the corner of her eye. _Where the hell was Oliver Wood_? She had absolutely given him the correct address. He'd even said he'd heard of the place—some of his teammates blew off steam here on the weekends. From the looks of things, Katie wouldn't last much longer in this place. To tell the truth, as good as it was to be dancing again, Angelina wasn't sure how much longer _she _wanted to be in this place with its smoke-filled air and unsavory patrons. A coquette by nature, she always enjoyed a little male attention, but this particular man was getting a little too forward. Flipping her hair decidedly, Angelina pushed him away and turned back to her girlfriends.

As she let her body move to the beat, the tall dark girl went over the plans she had put into motion for the night and considered them again. Surely it was the right thing to do. Alicia had agreed, and Alicia had always had the most sense in their circle of friends. That Katie and George should learn to spend some time apart was imperative, she was sure of that. The part of her plan that included Oliver Wood was a little less morally correct.

She wasn't promoting the match, necessarily. She did think that perhaps the optimistic and dedicated Wood might be good for her friend at some point, but she wasn't in a hurry to rush Katie into anything. More than anything, Angelina was anxious for Katie to seek comfort in some other form than George Weasley. And as Wood would certainly never push the issue if Katie didn't want to, she had almost no qualms in selecting him as that other form.

The problem was that she was doing it by stealth. She had deliberately set up a situation wherein Katie would most likely be miserable, and if that did turn out to be the case, would have an opportunity to escape with someone who could commiserate with her over how devilishly plotting and scheming and wrong Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet could be. And if she happened to fall for Wood along the way, so much the better. Both she and George could begin to move on and move forward in a healthier direction. That was, if Lee was operating things on his end according to plan.

And if Oliver Effing Wood would ever show up.

_Where was he_?

XxX

George Weasley shoved his fists deep into the pockets of his jeans as he followed Lee Jordan through the crowds around Wigtown's Quidditch Pitch to where his older brother Charlie and Michael Bell claimed to hold seats in the front row. As a professional Quidditch player himself, Michael had the ability to procure tickets to any league game at the drop of a hat, and had done so for that night. They were also supposed to be meeting a couple of friends from school—Ryan Carmichael, whom they had shared a dormitory with during most of their Hogwarts career, and his cousin Eddie from Ravenclaw, who had sold elicit substances to younger students preparing for their O.W.L.s. George and Lee had seen neither of the Carmichaels since their graduation from school. Well—Lee's graduation. George's decidedly earlier departure.

To own the truth, George didn't care much for seeing anyone that night. He wasn't even that thrilled about the prospect of an excellent match, which was unusual for him. As he mindlessly followed his best friend to where they were designated to meet their friends, he reflected idly on the fact that this would be the first match he would see live without his twin brother. George had always deflected the invitations to Wood's matches with the rest of their friends, coming up with some excuse or another. Now he was actually there, deprived of someone with whom he could pick apart every movement of the team's Beaters. _At least no one would be pressuring him to bet his life's savings this time_, he tried to convince himself. It was no use, however. George had been almost as keen to do something reckless at the World Cup as Fred had, and at the moment he was feeling he would willingly hand over his considerably larger life's savings in a heartbeat if it meant he could just relive that one night. Lee interrupted his reverie, however.

"Look, mate, I know you're sore about Katie and all, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook on trying to enjoy yourself tonight," he said, glancing idly over his shoulder in order to ascertain that the redhead was, in fact, present.

George scowled. "I'm _not_ sore about Katie," he shot back, slightly angered that his best friend couldn't seem to grasp the deeper reason for his silence. He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders, and began to cast his eyes about for signs of their friends. The end of October was turning out to be especially frigid that year, and he was eager to be in the temperature-controlled bleachers of the pitch.

"Whatever, mate," returned Lee in a voice which convinced George he didn't believe him for a second. "So what's the real reason you've been short with everybody all week, then?"

George said nothing.

"Look," Lee continued. "I'm not as on-board for this thing as Ange is, but I think she and Alicia have got a bit of a point. I mean, I'm glad Kates is living with us and all, but it gave me a bit of a shock when I woke up that Sunday to the two of you burning breakfast in the kitchen and her in your night clothes. And it's really only gotten worse since then, I mean—"

Grunting, George held up a hand to silence him. He already knew what Lee was going to say; it was what everyone had been saying since he had invited Katie to move in with him at the beginning of the month.

"Save it, Lee," George said gruffly. "You've already got her on your side, apparently, and it only takes convincing one of us to it. Just thought you'd be happy to quit after getting her to stop speaking to me."

"I _knew_ you were sore about Katie…hey mate, look! There's Ryan and Eddie. Oi! _Oi_!"

George spotted the pair of them coming through the crowd as Lee waved them over.

"And they've got a couple of pretty birds trailing them…look at that," Lee pointed out. "One of 'em looks like she fancies you, George, old boy."

He glanced over carelessly to where Lee was indicating. A pretty blonde girl in a light blue parka and matching knit hat smiled over at him in a shy, but decidedly playful manner. George recognized that look. He had taken advantage of that look on females on several occasions in his Hogwarts days.

"Lee! Georgey!" shouted Ryan over the tops of a few peoples' heads as he and his cousin drew near. He clapped both of them on the back and general pleasantries ensued as the four of them made their way to where Michael had told them they were sitting. He and Charlie were already there, and greeted the four young men cheerfully. Soon Harry and Ron showed up, and the six became eight. They were a rather loud party, and George felt a familiar jolt of anticipation as the pre-game roar escalated and the two teams streaked out onto the field.

XxX

There were only two occasions upon which Oliver Wood would find himself so worked up about something that he would swear—Quidditch, and figuring out how to dress when he was about to see someone he happened to be interested in. And when those occasions came, he could make use of profanity with the best of them.

"Oh, for _fuck's sake_!" he shouted, his Scottish accent thickening with his rising anger. "_Bleeding Christ_!"

Wood usually paid little to no attention to his wardrobe. He owned several decent things, and never left Puddlemore House looking like a slob, but he was not accustomed to evaluating his dress according to the effect it might have on a female. He was going on a covert mission of Angelina Johnson's design, the judgment of which he strongly questioned, but one he had agreed to and intended to do well. After all, if he was going to do it, he might as well play the role to the best of his ability. A fine goal to be sure, but it now left Oliver evaluating the effect the color blue had on his countenance versus the color green.

"Going to see a girl?" said a voice near his door. Wood turned around to face Alex Leadholt, one of three Chasers for Puddlemore. He looked casually interested.

"So to speak," muttered Wood. "Meeting some people at Victory's Villa for a drink."

"Is it that bird that you only got one date with?" he asked curiously, ignoring Wood's use of the plural. "You know, the one who had to bring you home when you were all slumped over and passed out?"

Oliver gave him an ugly look. "Yes, Leadholt, that's the one. Clear out now. Still have to pick out a damn shirt."

"I can see that," Leadholt continued. "Say, let me come along? The other lads have gone off to Paris for the weekend, but I was a little short on funding…lost that wager on Portee, you know."

"I do know, as most of that was my money," Wood said shortly, finally selecting a dark gray dress shirt, and buttoning it halfway up his chest. "And no, I don't think you'd better come. You'd frighten away half the place."

"Oh _come on_, Woody, I know that place inside and out. I can show you 'round in case the girl gives you the slip again."

"She _didn't_ give me the slip," Oliver replied testily. "Now, can you just tell me where the damned place is? I'm bloody late as it is…north Diagon Alley, is it?"

Leadholt gave him a look, paused, and then said, "_No_. As a matter of fact, it isn't. South Alley, actually. They recently relocated."

Wood considered him for a moment and then took off. "Alright, cheers, mate. Maybe next time!"

XxX

The Wigtown Wanderers proved to be an equal match to the prowess of the Appleby Arrows, and most of the match was going by scoreless. George watched in a slightly disengaged way, more distracted by thoughts of Hogwarts Quidditch than anything else. He was remembering the game in their second year which had gone on for hours; it had been a blindingly bright day in autumn and Charlie hadn't been able to spot the Snitch until four hours in. He and Fred had gotten so bored they had resorted to beating Bludgers at each other, and had inadvertently caused Katie to topple from her broomstick. Luckily, her reflexes had been so quick that she had managed to snag a hold of a few of the twigs and thus save herself from what would have been a few broken arms. She hadn't spoken to either of the twins for a week after that…

"Oi, Georgey, look who's across the aisle," Lee pointed out, once again interrupting his thought flow.

It was the girl in the blue hat that had smiled at George before the match. He had noticed her a few minutes after they had sat down; she had been attempting to catch his eye for most of the game.

"Yeah," George returned gruffly. "I saw."

"You should go talk to her," Lee urged, as the referee blew his whistle to signify a time-out. "While the match is paused, it would be a perfect time!"

His friend shook his head. "Nah," he said dismissively. "I don't think so."

A disbelieving look descended on Lee's dark face, his dreadlocks moving slightly as he twitched his head.

"I don't understand what the hell has gotten into you," he said. "You would have been over there about an hour ago if we were back in school."

George knew the truth of this too well to debate. He had never been one to pass up an opportunity with a pretty girl. Tonight, however, he simply wasn't in the mood, and he shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

"Hey," Lee said suddenly, his voice dropping. "This isn't, like a…" He checked over his shoulders to see if their friends were listening in on his conversation, but the rest of them appeared to be in a lively debate over which team had the upper-hand. "A…Katie thing is it? Because I know after the Yule Ball—"

"God, for _hell's sake_, Lee, would you give it a rest?" George interrupted, suddenly greatly agitated. "Why do you _always_ have to jump to that? I tell you one thing, _one _time—when we were already exhausted and a little inebriated, I might add—and you take to forming the basis of my every action off of it! I was _sixteen_, and it ended when I was sixteen!"

"Okay, okay," his friend backed off quickly, obviously regretting going where he did. "I won't bring it up again, mate, I'm sorry. If you don't want to go for the bird, you don't want to go for the bird."

"I just really wish you'd realize that I just lost my twin brother six months ago!" he continued. He wasn't shouting, particularly, but it was obvious from his voice that he was rather angry. "I go through good periods and not so good periods, and I'd appreciate if you could remember that before you go assuming I'm enough of a prick that I'm only concerned about feelings I may or may not have had on one night four bloody years ago."

Lee looked really repentant. "You're totally right, mate, I was bang out of order. Let's just talk about the match, eh?"

At first, George didn't answer. But, as play resumed and he began to feel slightly ashamed of his irrational behavior, he made some slight comment about the excellence of Wigtown's Keeper.

"Oh, sure," Lee said enthusiastically, obviously glad to be talking about something else. "Course he's nothing to old Woody. They were practically smashed when they played Puddlemore last week. Oliver didn't let in a single goal the whole match. He's really sharp, Wood is."

George nodded in fervent concurrence. "Bloody fantastic Keeper, always has been," he agreed. Then he thought of something. "Where is Wood tonight, by the way? I mean, I thought this was 'Separate the Blokes and the Girls Night,' shouldn't he be here?"

"Oh, Ange didn't tell you?" Lee asked, now distracted by a Wigtown Chaser streaking up the field with the Quaffle under her arm. She feinted, reverse passed to her teammate, and dodged a Bludger to a roar of excitement. "He's going to the club with them. She figured Kates would need a friendly male face in that place, or some rubbish like that. Just in case she gets all out-of-sorts, you know."

"Yeah…" George trailed off as Wigtown scored and the crowd filled the air with deafening applause.

Suddenly filled with an indefinable mixture of both anger and depression, George Weasley stood up, pulled on his coat, and announced he was leaving.

"_What_?" Eddie said, aghast. "The Wanderers _just _scored the first goal of the entire match!"

"You've got to be barking, mate," Michael Bell piped up, turning from the enthusiastic shout he was sharing with Charlie. "It's finally getting interesting!"

"Don't be a downer, little brother," Charlie added.

George shook his head. "No, really," he said. "I've got like a bad headache or something…I'm just going to go lie down at the flat…"

"Was it something I said?" Lee asked anxiously, following George partway out of the stadium.

"Nope," the redhead lied, doing his best to reassure his friend who was looking sincerely concerned. "I just need to go to bed. Listen, though, thanks for this. Really. Tell Ryan and Eddie I'm sorry, we'll have to catch another match later or something…"

And leaving a truly bewildered Lee, George walked away from the crowds, turned on his heel, and Disapparated into the cold October night.

XxX

Angelina was now growing seriously concerned. When she thought she could chance it without Katie's noticing, she exchanged worried glances with Alicia. _Where was Oliver? _He was supposed to have been there an hour ago. Katie's spirits were low. She had ceased to snap at the men who were dancing around her, and was now ignoring them entirely. Her fingers were grasping at the silver band which hung on a chain around her neck. If Wood didn't get here soon, the night would be wasted. At least on that end.

The ex-Gryffindor Chaser did her best to rouse her friend out of the obvious state of melancholy she was in. Shaking off the latest man to attempt a dance, she moved over to Katie and took her hands, grinned warmly, and shouted, "Isn't this _great_?"

Before Katie could answer, however, Angelina spotted Oliver Wood's carefully combed head emerging through the crowded entrance to the night club. _Finally_.

"No, it really isn't," Katie shouted back. "Listen, Ange, I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to go home. I know you and 'Lic planned out this night carefully, but I just don't think I can take it. I'm sorry."

"What?" Angelina panicked. "No, Katie, you can't go. I—I think I just saw someone we know!"

But Katie shook her head fervently. "I can't do it, Ange. I miss Fred. I smell like stale cigarettes, I feel a damn fool in this dress, and I miss Fred. I'm sorry."

And without waiting for another word of protest from either of her friends, Katie Bell disappeared in the crowd. Her relatively small stature made her impossible to track in the crowded room of tall men.

"Katie!" Angelina shouted, thoroughly upset.

"_Katie_!" Alicia joined in. "Come back! Oliver's here!"

But if their friend heard them, she gave no sign and did not reappear that night.

XxX

"That bloody _bastard_!" Oliver Wood muttered under his breath as he finally came upon Victory's Villa. The shady little bar had _not _been, as Alex Leadholt had informed him, in the south end of Diagon Alley but at the north end, where Angelina had advised him to go in the first place. What had started as a mere late arrival now left him a full hour and fifteen minutes later than he had promised to arrive.

Leadholt had been annoyed with him for not letting him join him that night, Wood knew. Ordinarily, he would have had no problem spending a Friday night with any of his teammates, but he had not wanted to overwhelm Katie with another new face, nor face the wrath of Angelina Johnson for deviating from the agreed-to plan. And that bit of concern had now cost him an entire forty-five minutes.

Still, however, he was determined to salvage what he could. Maybe being late would add to the authenticity of Alicia and Angelina's faces when he walked through the door. Oliver entered the establishment to the usual stares of admiration from obvious Quidditch fans and ignored them. He quickly spotted the three girls he was looking for. Angelina was tall and easy to spot in a crowd, Alicia's bright blonde hair always gave her away, and Katie he had come to know simply by the back of her head.

Eager to be with people he knew and maybe get Katie out of this rather seedy bar, Wood made his way over to where his old Chasers were dancing. By the time he made it, however, Katie seemed to have disappeared.

"Oh, Oliver," Alicia moaned when he reached them. "You _just _missed her!"

"What?" Wood asked, feeling an unusual amount of disappointment hit him like a rock. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you _prat_!" Angelina shouted exasperatedly, smacking him hard on his forearm. "How could you be late?"

"One of my teammates gave me bad directions," Oliver explained quickly. "What's going on?"

Alicia sighed. "Katie couldn't take it, and she left," she explained. "I think we tried too early, Ange…did you see how she was holding Fred's ring practically the entire night? Too soon, too soon…"

It was a mark of how sincerely she believed Alicia to be right that Angelina admitted defeat. "I'm sorry, Wood," she said, sighing. "'Lic is probably right. I'm not sure what we were thinking…"

Oliver forced himself not to be too disappointed. "It's okay," he said heartily. "You're obviously just concerned about Katie and George. Like everyone is."

She nodded. "Well," she said finally. "Shall we get a round of drinks, then, I guess?"

Wood considered this, and then nodded. He figured he might as well make a night of it, even if it wasn't the one he had planned. "Alicia?"

The small blonde girl nodded, and the three of them made their way over the bar.

"Well at least we got them apart for one evening," Angelina said, tipping her head back and taking her first shot. "_That_ counts for something."

XxX


	32. Apart, Part II

**A/N: Because I had to separate this last chapter into two parts, I've GREATLY lengthened this one, so most of it are George's flashbacks to his Yule Ball experience. Lucky you, you've got previously unplanned George Weasley memories! Show your gratitude by leaving a review? Cheers!**

George purposely Apparated at the entrance of Diagon Alley. He wanted an excuse to walk the length of the chilly street before he let himself back into the flat above his shop. Unsure of exactly why the news of Oliver Wood's presence with the girls had unsettled him to the point that he left the Quidditch match, the fifth-born Weasley strode down the quaint streets of the near-deserted Alley and—for some reason inexplicable to himself—reflected on the events leading up to the night Lee had so carelessly brought up.

XxX

"_Oi! Angelina!" Fred's voice rang out through the Common Room loud enough for just about any Gryffindor who cared to, to hear. George stared in disbelief as Angelina Johnson turned from where she had been sitting by the fire near Alicia. Somehow, George knew exactly what his twin was about to do, and he was powerless to stop it._

"_Yes?" Angelina asked, looking severely annoyed._

"_Want to go to the Ball with me?"_

_He had done it. George tightened his jaw as Angelina colored, glanced quickly to where Lee Jordan was chatting up a fourth-year, appraised Fred, and then nodded. _

"_Yes, alright then," she said, turning back to Alicia. _

"_And that's how it's done," Fred summed up for the supposed benefit of Harry Potter and their younger brother, Ron. The real audience for his performance, however, was sitting at a table in the corner with Ryan Carmichael and her friend Leanne. As Harry and Ron drifted away, George watched as Katie Bell made some slight excuse, stood up, and retreated to the dormitories. Her hands were clenched into fists, but he saw she was quivering slightly as she made her way up the stairs. Fred pretended not to notice, but George saw the he was tracking her from the corner of his eye._

_This was one of the rare moments in which George was genuinely unhappy with Fred._

"_Well that went off well!" Fred remarked brightly as he strode over to sit down at an empty table near the portrait hole._

"_You're an unbelievable prat, you know that?" his twin asked disgustedly as he sat across from him._

_Fred's facial expression shifted into one of disbelief. "What?" he asked, slightly affronted. "Kates and I are on a break. I'm a free agent."_

"_As of about three hours ago," George reminded him._

"_Nevertheless," Fred broke in. "She can't expect me to just not go to the Ball. I meant what I said to the wee ones—there will be no one left for you if you drag your feet about it. I think you're just a little sore because I've negated the possibility of you outdoing me, Georgey. Admit it."_

"_You're my brother and my best mate," he answered him. "But that doesn't stop you from being a complete ass sometimes. I'll see you around—night."_

"_George!" Fred called after him, slightly angered. "George, come off it; get back here!"_

_George ignored him, however, and walked straight up the staircase and through a wall which inexplicably transported him to the girls' tower. He found Katie's door and knocked loudly. If Fred was going to behave like a prat, then he no longer had any qualms himself about doing the one thing he had wanted to do most since the previous June._

XxX

He hadn't done it, though, George recalled, sighing. He had now reached the shop. He let himself in, climbed up the stairs, and sat down at his kitchen table. The whole flat was quiet. It actually seemed like the whole world was that way. Deciding that what he needed at the moment was a strong drink, George retrieved a bottle of whiskey and a glass and returned to his chair. _So much for never drinking alone_. He downed the contents of his first glass quickly, the alcohol burning his throat. So he hadn't managed to do what he had wanted to do that night four years ago. Something had stopped him. He used to think it was decency, or respect, or some other chivalrous reason that built up his ego. In retrospect, especially tonight, it just seemed like cowardice.

Instead of following through with his resolve, George had settled for being the shoulder of comfort and offered himself as her Yule Ball date. To this, she was completely opposed and vowed she hadn't the smallest intention of attending the event. However, an owl which had arrived the morning of December 24th had accepted his invitation after all, and he had had one more chance—which was also squandered.

XxX

"_So Katie decided to show up after all, then?" Fred asked his brother, who was casually adjusting his bowtie in the mirror. He was affecting carelessness, but George saw the discomfort in Fred's eyes which belied his cavalier tone of voice._

"_Yep," George answered in equally unconcerned tones. _

"_Well," Fred said, attempting humor. "I'm glad it's you taking her, then, and not some bloke I'd have to spend half the night eying to make sure he didn't get too friendly. Eh?"_

_At this, George faltered, and then feigned just as insincere a grin as his brother's. "Too right," he said, attempting vainly to disguise the discomfort in his voice. Fortunately, Fred didn't seem to notice it._

"_So what's going to end up happening with the girl you were supposed to go with, then?" Fred asked. "Sarah Fawcett, was it? She wasn't too bad looking, bro."_

"_I noticed that," George assured him. "Which is why I asked her in the first place. She seems remarkably fine with it, thoug…a little _too _fine, actually…said she'd probably end up going with Stebbins…"_

_Fred made some slight remark, and the two brothers headed down the stairs to claim their dates._

_The night ended up affording George little to no pleasure, however. Katie was beautiful, but spiritless. Every time they danced, her eyes were bound to be focused on the wrong twin. Fred's antics weren't helping. He was dancing wildly with Angelina, hardly ever left the dance floor, and seemed determined not to be caught looking at his ex-girlfriend. _

"_Katie," George said gently, stirring her from her reverie. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding her hand. They were dancing to the last slow song of the night, and the chords emanated from the stage and flowed through the Great Hall. _

_She felt light in his arms, and from their proximity he could detect the faintest smell of a flowery perfume in her hair. For once not admonishing himself, George let himself appreciate the way they fit together—the smoothness of her skin, the way her cheeks flushed from dancing, and how his whisper in her ear ruffled the small pieces of hair that had escaped from the dark knot at the back of her head. Her attention was not his, however. Her bright eyes were fixed on his brother, and this realization made George feel slightly ill._

"_Katie," he said again. She blinked her dark lashes twice, and then looked up at him, fixing a sad smile on her face._

"_Oh hey, George," she said, attempting cheerfulness. "You're kind of a great dancer, you know. I was practically swept away for a moment there."_

"_Oh, I'm quite aware of the fact," he assured her, spinning her once, dipping her low, and then bringing her in even closer than before. "Although you're not too disgraceful yourself. In fact, I'm afraid most of the room is looking at you, and not at me."_

_She laughed slightly. "Well, thank you for that fine compliment, Mr. Weasley, I'm sure it cost you quite a bit of dignity to admit."_

_He simply grinned and gave her a very cavalier look. _

"_In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I'm quite the object of envy tonight," she continued. "Angelica Watkins has been glaring daggers at me for half the night."_

"_She wanted me to ask her," George admitted. "Kept bloody hinting at it for weeks."_

Katie crinkled her nose in thought for a moment. "Weren't you snogging her at some point? Alicia told me you were."

_George nodded his head carelessly. "Yeah, over a month ago though. Ancient history, you know."_

_She laughed humorlessly. "You're quite the romantic, George. Don't you fancy anyone for more than a week?"_

_George gave a small laugh and then looked down at her contemplatively. _

"_I have," he said, all traces of joking now aside. "I'm capable of it."_

_He caught her eye for a moment, and her smile faltered. Whether or not she fully caught his meaning, however, was unclear. She looked away._

"_You know, I think Alicia really fancies you," she said idly. "And I don't think you should be afraid to do something about it."_

_Something in George's chest seemed to rush out of him. Before he could answer, she spoke again._

"_Then at least one of the Weasley twins will have taken the chance to be honorable."_

_She was looking at Fred again. The song ended and he released her silently, however much he wished to continue to explore the way she felt in his arms._

"_Sorry for being such a downer, George," Katie apologized suddenly as the few remaining couples began to disperse and head for the exits. "I'm really glad you asked me to come, honestly. It was really sweet of you."_

Great. He was the sweet one. Exactly what he had wanted to hear tonight.

"_No problem, Kay," he answered emotionlessly. "Always a pleasure."_

_He turned to follow her gaze to where Fred and Angelina were finally parting. While Ange was steadfastly holding to his arm, however, he saw Fred glance silently to where he and Katie were now walking. He leaned over and whispered something in Angelina's ear. She nodded, looked at him for a moment, and then departed off toward the stairs. As she passed, she touched George's elbow._

"_Come on," she hissed into his ear. "Let's give them a moment."_

_George opened his mouth to protest, but then caught the expression in his twin brother's eye as he headed over to where Katie was now standing alone, doing her best to look stoic and failing miserably. Nodding almost to himself, he heaved one last sigh and followed the tall dark girl out the door._

"_I'm going to listen just outside the door," Angelina said as they passed into the Entrance Hall. "Want to join?"_

_George shook his head. He wasn't exactly keen on listening to the inevitable fight and make-up that was about to take place. "Nah," he said. "I'm just going to head to bed. Have you seen Lee, by the way?"_

_Angelina shook her head a little too quickly. George eyed her meaningfully, and she sighed. "I think he went off about thirty minutes ago," she gave in. "After that little French minx of his went to bed early."_

_George nodded. "Alright, thanks, Ange. You have a good night."_

"_Night, George," she called as he retreated up the stairs._

_The dejected Weasley eventually found himself in the Common Room where quite the ruckus of an after-party was taking place. Leading the pack, predictably, was Lee standing on a table and doing a jig with Ryan, butterbeer spilling out of both their mugs. Other Gryffindors milled about, grinning madly and laughing and chattering in significantly louder tones than usual._

"_George!" Lee cried, jumping off the table and running over to join his best friend. He grabbed a mug of butterbeer on his way and shoved it into George's hands. "How was the rest of the Ball, mate? Juliet scampered off somewhere…where's Kates?"_

"_About to get into a massive fight with Fred and then snog half the night, I imagine," George said dully, staring down at his mug. "Honestly, Lee? You take a trip to Hogsmeade to pilfer some party treats and you leave without firewhiskey…?"_

_Lee grinned. "It's spiked," he answered, clearly proud of himself. "You know, I think sometimes that you 'n Fred tend to underestimate me…"_

_George laughed in spite of himself. "Perhaps we do," he conceded, helping himself to a drink. "So your date ditched you too, eh?"_

_Lee laughed humorlessly, collapsing into a chair. "I suspect she caught me staring at Ange for most of the evening," he admitted. "Didn't take too long to work out who I'd rather've been with, I imagine."_

_His friend nodded. "That was a rotten trick of Fred's, mate," he said bracingly. "But you know him—if there's a chance to create a little commotion, he'll take it."_

"_That's for damn sure," Lee agreed, taking a long swig of his butterbeer. "Aw, s'all right though. Felt worse for Kates, honestly. She looked miserable, didn't she?"_

_Taking this a little too personally, perhaps, George remained silent and stared, brooding, into the fire. He too took a large drink from his mug._

"_Not that it was your fault, mate," Lee added quickly. "That was bloody nice of you to step in there last minute and all."_

_George snorted at this. _Very selfless indeed.

_His friend looked at him curiously. "Alright there, George?" he asked._

_The redhead lifted his eyes to stare back at Lee quite seriously and then shook his head and barked out a laugh. He wasn't quite drunk enough for that, yet._

_As if sensing this, Lee looked around the room and then nodded. "We've got some of the spare bottles of firewhiskey up in our room, if you want."_

_George considered this for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, alright."_

XxX

And then George Weasley had done the unthinkable. He had let something escape his lips which had made every one of his romantic actions suspect from thereon out. Lee had been the first of only two people he had admitted that something to in his lifetime, and he had only admitted it to him that once. Nevertheless, it had unfortunately stuck in Lee's mind like glue and made George regret ever drinking straight alcohol that night. It had been before he had really been able to hold his liquor. Now, for instance, he was doing rather well with that one bottle…

XxX

"_Whoa," Lee said, flabbergasted. He was lying on his bed, dress robes unbuttoned, the ends of his socks just barely hanging onto his toes. The half-empty bottle of firewhiskey lay abandoned on his night table. "I mean…_whoa_. You're not serious, mate?"_

"_Yep," George answered solemnly, tipping back his own bottle and downing more of the alcohol. He was sitting slumped in the corner and staring up at his friend, gauging his reaction. Lee sat up._

"_For how long?" he asked, still in seeming disbelief._

_George shrugged. "Since last summer, I suppose. She was over to stay for a couple of weeks and we were all playing Quidditch in the orchards, and old Perce—who we'd convinced to play just for another man on a team—accidentally rammed into her and knocked her off her broom. She was too busy yelling at Ron to man up that she didn't notice Percy was coming straight for her, and she fell right off and broke her arm. She was always doing stuff like that…anyway, Fred blew a gasket and started yelling at Perce, and I was the one to go get her and bring her in to Mum. She wasn't much at healing spells, but she made us swear we wouldn't get on our brooms again until she could find a real Healer. So we just went off to this lake, and floated out on a raft Fred 'n I built a couple summers back. We were just lying on that thing on our backs, and talking over nothing in particular, but I happened to look over at her and before I knew what I was doing, I was counting the freckles on her nose…"_

_He let out a short bark of a laugh. "It's stupid, right? But anyway, right then I knew, and at the same time I knew I'd never be able to do a single bloody thing about it because of Fred."_

_He sighed and looked over at Lee, whose mouth was still agape._

"_You've got to tell her, mate," he said simply._

_George rolled his eyes. "You're barking."_

"_No, I'm dead serious. What if she's with the wrong twin, and she just doesn't know it yet? You two _are _exactly alike."_

_George glared up at him._

"_Well, not _exactly, _obviously…"_

"_I'm not gonna bloody hurt Fred, alright?" he interrupted. "That would kill him. You don't know him as well as I do, Lee, you can't _tell…_you didn't see the way he looked tonight, the way he looked at her when he wasn't messing around with Ange. I'm telling you, it would kill him."_

"_It's killing _you_," Lee pointed out in a rare moment of seriousness. "I love Fred just as much as I do you, Georgey, but everyone deserves a chance to fight for what they want."_

_George looked up at his best friend, calculating._

"_And supposing I tell her? What happens to Fred, then?"_

"_You're the only person in the world he'd forgive for it," Lee said with confidence. "And I absolutely mean that."_

_Probably as a result of the alcohol running through his system, George suddenly felt emboldened. "You're right," he said, leaping to his feet. "I'm going to tell her. And Fred will bloody have to deal…I defer to him enough, he can do the same for me."_

"_Atta boy, Georgey!" Lee called, cackling as the lanky redhead clambered out the door._

_George ran swiftly through the castle, leaping over several discarded butterbeer bottles and frightening couples who were ensconced in the secret passageways he knew like the back of his hand. Finally, he reached the grand staircase. He spotted her sitting at the bottom step, and quickened his pace, his heart beating rapidly. He stopped, however, within ten feet of her. Her head was in her hands, and she was crying._

_George suddenly felt like the world's greatest prat. He couldn't do this to her—not now. He wouldn't. And Fred would certainly never do this to him. Almost nothing governed Fred Weasley, as his twin brother, George knew this for a fact. The one thing that did was loyalty. Perhaps Fred would forgive him, but George would never forgive himself. Later that night, as soon as she disentangled herself from the roaming hands of her Durmstrang date, he would ask out Alicia Spinnet. It was a responsible move._

_Feeling the familiar sensation of energy rushing out of his body, George let out a private sigh and shook his head, steeling his resolve. He drew a handkerchief out of his coat pocket, and walked to remaining steps to where Katie Bell was curled up in a ball, her knees hugged into her chest. George dangled the handkerchief in front of her face in a decidedly playful manner._

"_Hey there, Kay," he said._

Alright, Fred. I'll play this part for you one more time.

XxX

George reflected on these last few fleeting remembrances as he fingered the rim of the whiskey bottle sitting in front of him. Perhaps he'd had enough for the evening. He stood up to put it away, feeling entirely disgusted with himself and his choices in life. Maybe that night he had chosen the higher route—but the higher route had left him unhappy for almost the entirety of the remainder of his schooling days. He had never summoned the courage to share what he had wanted to share that night. One thing came after another—he was quite happy with Alicia mostly, Fred's fights with Katie became easier and easier to smooth over, they left school, he left Alicia, Bill got married, Fred and Katie made up for the final time, they were engaged…then Fred died. That final event had triggered the upheaval of everything previous. All thoughts of anything else were banished from his mind.

But lately, the old feelings had been creeping back with a vengeance. George couldn't ignore them. He couldn't ignore them, and simultaneously couldn't act on them. It was too soon, he reasoned, too soon since that one single event had stopped time for the both of them. They had learned to keep living, keep laughing. But George couldn't quite let go. And in that time he was relearning how to live, how to laugh, Oliver Wood had loomed closer and somehow had taken the place Fred had vacated. No matter how many lies he told to Lee, that fact remained. And now, Oliver was where he wanted to be—had been invited to where he wanted to be. And what chance, after all, did the weak George Weasley—living, breathing reminder of what everyone else had lost—stand to Oliver Wood?

George had just opened the cupboard to put away the whiskey, when he heard someone come through the door. Startled—as the game was most certainly not over yet—he turned around to question Lee about why he had followed him home. It wasn't Lee, however, it was Katie.

She came through the door quietly, her hand lingering on the doorknob as she closed it behind her. George turned fully to face her, setting the bottle on the counter.

"Hey," he said.

Katie looked very pretty, but she had very unmistakably just come back from a bar and her hair smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume.

"Hey," she said shortly, taking off her heels and rubbing the soles of her feet. "You got any of that left?" She gestured at the bottle.

"Er…yeah," he answered. "Want me to pour you a glass?"

"_Please_," she said sincerely. "I'm just going to take a quick shower and then I'll join you, okay?"

She had crossed the room to the bathroom, but stuck her head out the door in an earnest glance toward her friend. This softened the hardened state George had been in all week and he nodded, smiling.

"Sure thing," he said. "I could stand for another glass."

Within a few short minutes, Katie had emerged from the shower dressed in pajamas and shining wet hair brushed. She joined George at the counter.

"You should still be at the match," she said accusatorily, taking a sip from her glass.

"So should you," he pointed out.

She smiled. "Hard night," she admitted.

George nodded. "Me too…"

Contrary as it might seem, George was feeling slightly encouraged by this. Perhaps she wasn't quite as prone to Wood's advances as he had thought. She was here, after all, obviously without him in tow. It felt wonderful to just be talking with her again.

"So no dashing blokes to lengthen your stay, eh?" he questioned. "Not even a famous Quidditch player?"

She wrinkled her nose at him in confusion. "Er…no," she said. "Nothing of the kind. Only the usual rats there tonight."

George frowned. "Well did you…you know…_recognize _anyone there at least?"

Katie continued to stare at him. "No," she said. "Not a soul. Just Ange and Al. Why, George?"

He shook his head and swallowed the rest of his glass quickly. "No reason," he said. "Well, goodnight."

He left a flabbergasted Katie at the counter and crawled into his bed, shutting off the light. If she couldn't at least be honest with him, maybe they weren't as close as he had thought—and Wood perhaps not so far from his target.

XxX

Katie finished her drink quietly and then crept into bed. She was in no mood for George's ill humors that night. She thought they had been beginning to heal the breach over their behavior the past week, but perhaps she had thought wrong. No matter, however. Her head ached and she was ready to give herself up to sleep. The next time Angelina and Alicia decided it would be good for her to get out, she was suggesting coffee.

XxX

_The rain pattering against the side of the large bay window of the flat stirred Katie from her sleep. Or at least, that was what she thought initially. She crinkled her nose as she recognized the feeling of someone playing with the very ends of her hair._

"_Stop it, Fred," she murmured idly, batting away a hand._

_He merely continued._

"_Fred," she said warningly, still keeping her eyes shut. "You know I hate that."_

"_You're letting your hair grow," a voice observed. "I think you look more fetching when it's short."_

"_I don't care what you think," she retorted sleepily. "Stop playing with my hair. You know I hate it when you do that."_

"_But you're smiling. Which leads me to believe all this protesting is merely a farce. So you're a fraud, really."_

_Katie opened her eyes, a slight smirk upon her face as she discovered Fred Weasley sitting at the end of her bed and watching her sleep. His familiar freckled face showed signs of amusement, his rather long nose only a foot from her own._

"_Hi," she said softly._

"_Hi," he answered her in the same tone._

_They simply stared at one another for a few moments._

"_I've missed seeing you at the edge of my bed," Katie murmured._

"_I've missed _being _in your bed, Katesy," he returned devilishly. She laughed slightly and took his hand from her hair, encasing it in her own. He moved closer and began stroking her face and staring into her eyes, as if intent on memorizing every detail._

"_Fred," she said softly._

"_Hmm?"_

"_Tell me about the first night we spent together."_

_His eyebrows raised slightly, and he sat back, staring out into the dark expanses of the room as if trying to recall._

"_We talked," he said finally._

"_What else?" Katie prompted._

_He sniggered slightly, looking back at her. "Mostly we talked," he answered. "You danced. And we ate some cornflakes, because that was all that was left in your pantry. And…_when _we kissed…we were shaking so much we couldn't take off our clothes."_

_She closed her eyes again, letting his fingers trace little patterns across her hand._

"_I miss you," she said finally. He drew away his hand from hers and when he didn't answer, she opened her eyes to look for him again. He still sat on the edge of her bed, watching her closely. Slowly, he nodded his head._

"_I'm pretty irreplaceable, aren't I?" he asked._

_Katie nodded, and within a few seconds, he had vanished._

XxX

Katie awoke from this dream with tears in her eyes. Unlike her previous nightly flashbacks, this strange vision did not leave her screaming or tortured in memory—perhaps because it was not a memory at all. Nevertheless, tears spilled from her eyes and she clutched her blankets desperately, determined not to get up.

XxX

Across the room, George heard her cry. He didn't stir.

XxX


	33. Halloween, Part I

**A/N: I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter. I've been across the country for a summer internship & my life hasn't exactly been my own. Also, once again, I have too much material & am going to have to stretch it across two chapters. I'm sorry that after the delay, the update isn't that exciting. But I promise you the next one will be!**

Halloween morning dawned with a blazing crimson sun, promising a thoroughly authentic All Hallow's Eve. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was alight with activity; dozens of fliers strewn all across Diagon Alley promised the biggest Halloween party in metropolitan London—free for those on the guest list, 5 galleons for those who were not—and a discount of 25 percent off all holiday-related items. Naturally, it was one of the biggest days of the year for WWW and George, Ron, and Lee had recruited their friends to help out.

Alicia Spinnet had had to lobby hard at St. Mungo's in order to get off the entire day; Halloween was also busy for the wizarding hospital. It was an endless stream of patients whose pranks had gone wrong, along with a few dozen who had simply eaten too much candy. Or trick candy, come to that. Alicia had also made the additional mistake of informing her supervisor where she was going. The austere man had practically had an aneurism when she informed him she was on the guest list for the single party which was anticipated to be the most responsible for filling the hospital wards. Luckily, she was saved by Ben, another junior Healer who had assured Mr. Pirowitz that Alicia could supervise the party as "prevention." He gave her a grin and a wink before heading down the hall.

Before Alicia had come to work in St. Mungo's, she had been by and large ignored by the opposite sex. Perhaps ignored was the wrong word—maybe overlooked would be better. Between Katie and Angelina's big personalities, the small blonde had simply slipped between the cracks. Now she was spending large parts of her day without them, and to her surprise, found herself being grinned and winked at by Ben and other various men. Still, she only had eyes for one of them.

Alicia managed a small smile as Michael Bell crossed the room with a handful of trick sweets and gave her a very suggestive look when the others' backs were turned.

"You wouldn't happen to be dressing as anything sexy tonight, would you?" he breathed down her neck as he passed her. She felt goosebumps form on her skin.

"Maybe," she replied coolly, keeping her attention on the display of Snake Streamers she was arranging. "Maybe not."

"Make that a yes, please," he grinned cheekily at her before continuing on. She smiled and felt herself grow warm in the face.

The day wore on and soon after the shop officially closed for the day, Alicia was interrupted from her musings by Angelina who showed up at her side.

Alicia stared at her friend, who was clearly having some difficulty summoning the fortitude required to say what she wanted to say. The tall girl heaved a great sigh and said, finally, "I think we may have been wrong about trying to break George and Katie apart."

"Yeah, I know," Alicia replied, unfazed. "We decided last night it was too early."

"I mean at all," Ange said firmly. The blonde girl raised an eyebrow. Angelina simply pointed a finger.

Alicia turned and followed Angelina's gaze to where Katie and George were filling large barrels with apple cider. George casually threw a fake spider on the shoulder of Katie's cardigan, causing her to jump, yelp, and spill cider over the floor. He simply laughed at her as she scowled and flicked the thing back at his freckled face. Lee, who was walking by, slipped and came crashing to the floor, and George offered him a hand up.

The blonde sighed. "Oh alright, then," she conceded. "But I still liked Oli for her better."

Angelina screwed up her face. "What? No…Alicia, I'm not talking about _that_. You know I'm against _that._ _That_ was the point."

Alicia shook her head, not following. Her friend looked exasperated.

"All I'm saying is that clearly…they've got a friendship that works. And I guess we shouldn't try to meddle."

She paused again, looking as if she was having some struggle in admitting what she wanted to admit next.

"And?" Alicia prompted, knowing Ange's concessions always required a bit of encouragement.

"And I think we should probably apologize to them," she said very fast, the entire sentence contained in one breath. Then she waited, looking for Alicia's judgment. Alicia recognized this look—it was the one Ange wore when she knew she probably ought to do something, but wasn't going to do it unless Alicia told her it was absolutely necessary.

"I think you're right, Ange," she said cheerfully, to her friend's frown. "We'll do it after the party, though. Let's try not to ring a serious note before the night's actually begun, yeah?"

"Yeah," Angelina agreed, musing. Then she shoved Alicia in a mocking manner.

"You liked Oli for her better," she scoffed, as she walked away. "You're all content with your illicit love affair, and now you have to create one for everyone else…"

Alicia smirked slightly, and stole another glance at Michael who had been discreetly watching her from the corner of his eye all afternoon.

XxX

"She thinks she's so clever, hiding all of those goo-goo eyes and kissy faces at my brother all day," Katie remarked with a look of disgust as she mopped up the cider she had spilled on the floor.

"If it bothers you so much, why don't you just say something?" George asked, turning from where he was busy hanging orange pixie lights from the ceiling. The girls had suggested he add something a little less macabre to the décor hanging from the rafters, which had previously been filled only with shrunken heads.

Katie shrugged. "More fun this way, I 'spose," she answered casually.

George shook his head and laughed, not bothering to answer. The last few days with Katie had been fragile, but ultimately good. As much as he had tried, he had not been able to retain his cool attitude around his friend when it was so obvious she was attempting to melt it. Whenever he remained silent, she laughed, and when he frowned, she smiled. He seemed doomed to be on good terms with her. Not that George was complaining. In fact, he was in quite a good mood with the prospect of a fantastic party that evening and was even beginning to think that maybe she hadn't met up with Oliver Wood at the club after all—Lee could have gotten his facts mixed up, it wouldn't have been the first time it would have happened. And besides, Wood himself was off helping to dust out the corners of the shop with Michael Bell and had scarcely spoken a word to Katie all day.

"Okay!" he suddenly shouted, calling everyone in the shop to attention. "I think we're set. I want everyone out—_immediately_. That includes you two, my pathetic excuses for roommates. Totter off o to Ange and Alicia's rto get ready. I've got a few things of my own to see to."

Everyone laughed and Lee shouted, "Oi! I'm your sodding _employee_, Weasley. What gives?"

"Don't care," George answered, without skipping a beat. "No one gets to see my costume before tonight except me. Speaking of which, I think I need to lay down a few rules. No girls will be allowed in without skirts above mid-thigh."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie laughed and decried the remark.

"Oliver Wood, you'd better not be turning up dressed as a Quidditch player or you'll be thrown out—"

"Hey now!"

"And all of you are expected to be something very clever indeed, or I shall take your name off the guest list and you'll be paying me 5 galleons. Understood?"

There was a general mixture of laughter and retorts as the friends moved toward the door.

"Good," George grinned. "Now out! Oh—all except Alicia. 'Lic, I need your help with something."

The blonde stopped and looked up at the redhead in slight annoyance, but followed him up the stairs nonetheless.

XxX

"What do you think George needs 'Lic for?" Katie wondered aloud once she, Angelina, and Lee had made it back to the girls' apartment.

"Dunno," Lee answered, flopping onto the couch. "Perhaps he's fallen in love with her again and wants to have his merry way with her before the party."

Angelina rolled her eyes, and smacked her boyfriend upside the head.

"Don't be a moron, Lee," she said, glancing slightly at Katie. "I thought you said George wanted nothing to do with girls."

"He doesn't," Lee conceded, rubbing the back of his head where Ange had hit him. "That's the problem. Though he'll be in for a surprise tonight when he finds out I've invited that cute blonde bird from the match over for the party."

"What cute blonde girl?" Katie asked suddenly.

"Oh, didn't he tell you?" Lee asked curiously. "There was this beautiful blonde girl across from us at the Quidditch match that was practically undressing old Georgie with her eyes, but he was too much of a wimp to go over and talk to the girl. Dunno what's happened to him, he's gone soft…but he'll talk to her tonight, mark my words. Nothing like Halloween to make a bloke want a little action."

Katie sniffed and fiddled with her thumbs.

XxX

Oliver Wood had always hated apparating. It was strange for someone who had spent life on a broomstick, in a constant state of motion, since the age of three. And yet, Wood despised it—the feeling of suction, the instantaneous deliverance. No, he preferred to walk. He had patience. It was required for a Keeper—you could never charge the field, dart toward the middle of the battle, or be a part of the immediate and decisive action of the pitch. You had to hover, wait, and act quickly and strategically at exactly the right moment. Years of keeping had taught Wood how to wait. And so he walked back to his team's house from WWW instead of turning on the spot and disapparating as everyone else had done.

Wood strolled along Diagon Alley silently, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. He observed the day, the smells of Autumn, and the general bustle of the Alley as it prepared for the night of mischief that lay ahead. He was prepared to go back home, collect his teammates, dress, and return himself for whatever the night held in store. He had in general no expectations for the night—save one.

Ever since the night he had missed Katie in Victory's Villa, Wood had been musing over his situation with her. That what was happening between them was very unbalanced, he admitted, but Oliver was not prepared to concede that it was one-sided. There was a part of him, maybe a very small part, but it was there, that believed Katie felt something for him. He reflected on everything from the night she had spent nestled in his arms on the floor of Alicia's flat to the many lunches they had shared to their walks and talks all over Diagon Alley. He didn't believe she was aware of it, but he was sure it was there. Wood wasn't sure how long it would take for him to have her realize this either, but if there was one thing he knew about himself, it was that he was a man of patience.

So when he entered Puddlemore House to the relentless taunting from his teammates over "the bird he couldn't bag," he treated them good-humoredly, endured their catcalls, and even dished out a few of his own. He had a plan—and it would all begin tonight.

XxX

Katie lay bored on the couch in Angelina and Alicia's living room, watching Ange put the finishing touches on Lee's costume. They were dressing as a pair—Lee as a mad scientist, Ange as his—admittedly rather scandalous—assistant. She was currently frizzing out his dreadlocks a little more and adding a few bits of fake brain to his scalp.

"Why don't I get to put brain in _your_ hair?" Lee asked. "You're my assistant, after all. Surely you get a little messy as well?"

"Because I'm supposed to be hot," Angelina answered, beaming superiorly. Her boyfriend just rolled his eyes.

"Clearly Ange only sees to the paperwork," Katie commented dully, to Lee's laughter.

"Shouldn't you be dressing yourself, missie?" Angelina asked, raising her eyebrows.

Katie shrugged. "Haven't decided what to be yet," she answered.

Both of them stared at her.

"But Katie, you always spend _months_ working on your costume," Angelina said.

"Almost as long as the twins," Lee added.

Still, she shrugged again. "I just can't really think of anything this time. And anyway, not anything _clever_ like George wants…but apparently a short enough skirt can always make up for that…"

"Nonsense," Angelina said, dismissing her friend's comment with a roll of her eyes. "You're always clever. Remember when you came as Professor Umbridge On Painkillers?"

All three laughed at this memory.

"I got detention for that one," Katie commented, holding up her hand which still faintly read, 'I will not undermine authority.'

"Better than 'I will not make sexually suggestive remarks to young women,'" Lee joked, holding out his own right hand. "Helped pick up the ladies afterward though, I have to admit…"

Angelina scowled.

"Before you, my dear, before you," Lee laughed.

Katie lapsed once again into silence, dully pondering what she ought to put on that night. She _had _been planning on coming up with a fantastic costume; it was her signature, after all. But somewhere in the last couple of weeks she had lost her resolve. There was her friends' campaign to split her up with George, the awful night at the club, and then…that night. She had seen Fred. Not _really_ Fred, but some part of him. A memory, maybe, applied to what she was then feeling—something she had created to help herself through the night. She knew it was wrong to dwell on it, and had ever since attempted to keep up such a lively string of conversation with her friends that no one suspected she went to bed every night secretly hoping to meet him again. It hadn't occurred again, but it had lessened her attention on things like Halloween costumes. It seemed like such a trivial thing to care about.

And apparently George, her most constant ally, was going to be bombarded by women that night. Why did she care? She ought not to care…

"Alright Katie, come look through my things," Angelina called from down the hallway. Katie slipped off the couch and ventured after her.

XxX

"I can't believe I'm actually being allowed a sneak peak at the Great George Weasley's Halloween costume," Alicia said facetiously as she followed George up the stairs and into his flat.

He rolled his eyes at her but said, "Well if there's one person I trust to keep a secret, 'Lic, it's you. Besides," he grunted, hauling some large and heavy looking cloth from his closet, "you're the only person I know who was ever decent with a needle."

Alicia's brown eyes widened as she stared at what George had drug out of the closet. Then she laughed. "George, this is brilliant…even for you," she said. "Well done."

He smirked, obviously pleased with himself. "Thanks," he replied. "But it's all wrong in the back, see? I need your fantastic needlework."

Now it was Alicia's turn to roll her eyes. "Just because Lee always poked himself and Katie's stuff all managed to look like wooly hedgehogs…"

"And mine fell apart," George added.

"And yours fell apart," she confirmed.

"Fred was good, though," the redhead commented.

Alicia smiled wistfully. "Yeah, Fred was good…"

The silence hung in the air for a few moments before Alicia commanded George to pull on the fabric, and she set to work. A half an hour later, George's costume was nearly complete and Alicia was removing the pins from the fabric.

"You're brilliant," he said once again. "I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you at school."

Alicia scoffed ruefully. "Yes, I believe it was because you were pressured into it."

George looked slightly guilty, and then laughed. "Okay, well maybe at first," he admitted. "Still, I think we were pretty fantastic at one point, though, didn't you?"

She smiled up at him. "Yeah," she agreed. "_Pretty _fantastic. But there was always a Bell between us."

"Still is," George pointed out. "But now it's your fault."

Alicia colored and looked away. "What makes you think I like Michael Bell?" she asked unconvincingly.

He laughed at her discomfort. "Oh, give it up, 'Lic, I heard him telling Charlie about at my parents' place months ago."

"You did?" she asked, now smirking a little.

"Yes. And I think it's smashing. Though it's still ruining our chances at being together."

He said this last bit cheekily, but Alicia looked at him penetratingly as she gathered the last pin and then stood up.

"Is he really the only Bell between us?" she asked quietly. George furrowed his brow.

"Yes, 'Lic," he answered firmly, returning to his reflection in the mirror and scrutinizing it carefully. "That stopped when I told you it did."

"Which time?" she prompted further.

He frowned deeply.

"The last time."

Alicia nodded. "Okay, George. I've got to go change…see you later."

She exited quietly, and George scowled. It was an odd contrast to the costume he was now wearing.

XxX


	34. Halloween, Part II

**A/N: This is especially for SushiLuver, who has been so kindly reminding me daily to update. **

"So what do you feel like wearing?" Angelina asked for the millionth time that evening. It was half an hour past the time they were to have been at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and yet they still sat in front of Angelina's closet staring at her vast array of clothing. Katie was refusing to select an outfit. Lee, who had gotten fed up with waiting for the girls, had set off 45 minutes previously. Angelina was anxious to go, but she had a feeling that if she left Katie to her own devices, her friend would simply choose the easiest route of not going at all.

Katie shrugged yet again and fell backward on the bed. Her eyes, however, went back to a dress she had been glancing at for the past ten minutes.

"Right," Angelina said, preferring now to simply cut through whatever reasons Katie had for remaining indecisive. She pulled the dress from the closet. It was deep purple, spaghetti strapped, and made of taffeta with a few sparkles across the bodice and skirt. "Obviously you want to wear this dress, but are afraid of saying so because you always dress as something clever. So I'm just going to make this very easy—go put this on, we'll transfigure it somehow to actually fit you, and then we'll leave the funny stuff to George this year, alright?"

Katie opened her mouth to protest, but after a very pointed glare from Angelina, simply took the offered dress and retired to the bathroom. She sensed a pattern developing regarding her wardrobe and Angelina Johnson.

XxX

George Weasley had been throwing involuntary glances toward the door for at least the last hour. Everyone else had managed to show up with the exception of Katie and Angelina. Indeed, all of the wizarding world between the ages of eighteen and thirty seemed to be at his shop. The store floor had been cleared out to make way for a bar, a disc jockey's table, and an enormous dance floor. He, Ron, Lee, and Harry had been taking turns manning the door, handing out free trick sweets to the children who stopped by, and taking cover fees from anyone else who happened to want admittance.

"Who are you waiting for, George?" shouted a young dark-haired witch he vaguely recognized from Hogwarts. She had been tailing him rather vigorously for the last half hour.

"No one," he shouted back. It was difficult to hear or be heard over the music, something he had personally seen to at the beginning of the evening. All over, people were dancing, drinking, or engaging in a large number of traditional Halloween activities he had set up at the corners of the room. Michael Bell, for example, had just emerged, his dark, tousle-haired head wet, from a tub of apples. He had half a Bludger crushed into the side of his skull, and was wearing his Kenmare uniform which was covered in dragon's blood. Alicia, standing next to him and dressed in a rather skimpy librarian's outfit, did not seem to find his costume incredibly funny.

The girl, Parvati she had said her name was, was dressed as a cat along with her twin sister who was off somewhere snogging Roger Davies. She persisted in talking to him.

"But you keep looking at the door!" she said earnestly. "Really, who _isn't_ here?"

Feeling just a little exasperated, George finally turned to her and answered shortly, "A couple of my friends."

"Ooh, were they in Gryffindor too?" she eagerly asked. George considered for a moment.

"Were _you _in Gryffindor?" he questioned, desperately wracking his brain for a memory of this girl and praying that she hadn't been one of his infamous snog-in-the-closet partners. She was young and pretty enough to have been.

Parvati just laughed. "Of course I was!" she answered cheerfully. "I was in your brother Ron's year. He dated my roommate…Lavender Brown? Do you remember her?"

Suddenly George burst out laughing. He doubled over at the memory of his brother's ridiculous ex-girlfriend and riotously hooted, finally wiping a tear from his eye. "Sorry," he apologized, still breathing irregularly and attempting to stand up straight. "Yes, I remember her. How could I forget _Lavender Brown_? Where is she, anyway? And where's Ron? This will be good…"

"She went back to school to make up the last year," Parvati answered, slightly stiffly now. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now that he's with Granger, does it?"

But he had stopped listening to her. In his visual scan for Ron, he noticed that the door had opened again, and his attention was arrested by who was walking through it. Angelina, in a very short white lab coat, was bustling in. George strained to see who was following her. If only Angelina wasn't so tall…

"Say," Parvati continued. "You don't fancy a dance, do you?"

Just then, Angelina stepped aside. Behind her stood Katie—barely recognizable in a tight purple dress which hugged her curves and flowed out into a light and sparkling skirt. She wore a pair of lavender wings on her back and a rather ornate looking eye mask on her face. Her hair was curled and hung in loose ringlets around her face. She gripped one of her wrists and looked around a little nervously.

"Sorry," George apologized, half-gone already as he made his way across the dance floor. "Um…maybe later, yeah? Next slow song."

XxX

Katie looked out at the vast array of people in slight shock. She'd known the boys were expecting a big crowd, but this was frankly a little ridiculous. She silently wished her friends were the sort of people content to spend an evening in a corner, making jokes and drinking alcoholic cider, as opposed to feeling compelled to wreak as much havoc as possible on anyone within earshot. It was a fool's hope, however, and she knew it, accepting Angelina's lead in setting off to find Lee.

She also wished she weren't wearing this ridiculous costume—she wasn't even certain what she was supposed to be.

"Kates!"

She turned to find her brother, already half-drunk, with his arm slung around Alicia who was warily being drug about.

"What the hell're you supposed to be?" he slurred, looking her up and down. "You look like a common _girl."_

"She's a fairy, Michael, quit being a twat," Alicia scolded, and leaning in to give Katie a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "And a very _pretty _one, Katie."

"Well I think you look dreadful," Michael continued, to his sister's scowling.

"Too bad I didn't think of 'dead quidditch player' first!" she mocked. "That would have been a real winner—your captain's going to do his nut when he finds out what you've done to your uniform."

Her brother laughed. "Stebbins? Nah, he's already seen it. He thinks it's great."

Katie sincerely doubted this, but said nothing.

"Want to come bob for apples with me and 'Lic, little sis? Well…mostly me…Alicia won't do it, she thinks the cider's spiked…"

Alicia caught Katie's eye and they both rolled their eyes. However, maybe a little alcohol was what she needed…

She was about to take her brother up on his offer when she suddenly saw a bright red head coming through the dense crowd which was being parted rather rudely. Her face faintly breaking into a small smile, she watched as George Weasley—dressed head to toe as the most elaborate angel she had ever seen—extracted himself from the masses and walked directly over to her.

"Kay," he said upon reaching her and giving her a quick hug. "I didn't think you were going to make it. You look…"

He seemed utterly lost for words as he gazed down at her.

"Beautiful," he finished solemnly.

Uncomfortable with the word, especially from George, Katie attempted to dispel the undue solemnity of the moment with humor.

"Well, I know it isn't clever enough and my skirt's not short enough to fit your guidelines…" she began, trying to laugh it off.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "You're perfect."

Michael looked curiously from George to his sister and back again, while Alicia silently pursed her lips.

"So do you want to explain your outfit, then?" Katie asked, plowing on through the sea of social discomfort. "Or am I supposed to believe you're content with merely being ironic?"

The redhead pretended to be put-out. "Ironic, Kates? Far from it…no, no, I'm simply embracing my true nature. See?"

She slowly shook her head. "No…"

He frowned. "I thought you were quicker than this, Bell. Look closer. Think harder."

Katie flicked her green eyes up and down George's figure. His costume was really very elaborate. He was wearing sandals, and the cloth making up his white robe looked heavy and expensive. From behind his shoulders, large white wings pointed upward toward the ceiling and over his head, it looked like he had enchanted a halo to float directly above his red hair. It was then that she noticed it…George had strategically combed his hair around his head so that the wide gaping hole where his ear had been was clearly visible. Suddenly, Katie cracked a grin.

"You get it now?" he asked excitedly.

"Oh, Merlin," she said, half-exasperated and half-admiring. "George, you didn't…"

He immediately jumped backwards and pointed excitedly to the back of his costume. In bright blue, bold letters across his shoulders, it read: HIS HOLEYNESS, G.F. Weasley.

Katie laughed aloud and shook her head. "That joke is terribly unfunny, George," she tried to lecture. "Fred told you so from the start, and it's only gotten worse."

"Well I think it's fantastic and so do a lot of people here," he answered cheekily, sweeping her into another hug. "So I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut…hey, would you like to-?"

She raised her eyebrows, but George had been cut off by the sudden appearance of—of all people—Parvati Patil cutting through the crowd.

"Slow dance, George," she said bossily, with flirtatious eyes and a somewhat unfriendly glance at Katie. "You promised."

"I—" George stumbled, looking down at her.

"It's okay," Katie answered, waving her hand and feeling surprisingly slightly alarmed. "We can dance later…"

"Okay," he grinned, removing his arm from around her waist, and continued to lead Parvati onto the dance floor. Katie watched, dumbstruck.

"I know," Alicia said, as she and Michael once again moved to surround her. "He's being George again…bloody girls following him around all night. Shouldn't be surprised, I guess, but still…"

"And the Quidditch blonde hasn't even appeared yet," Katie murmured under her breath.

"What?" Alicia asked curiously.

"Nothing. Um…how are you?"

She listened to her friend chatter on with unhelpful interruptions from Michael, and kept an eye on George and Parvati as the younger, dark-haired girl pulled herself closer and closer to him, the small frown upon her face nearly impossible to detect.

XxX

"Okay, Woody, are we going to continue to stare at the girl all bloody night, or are we going to make our move?"

Alex Leadholt was growing rather impatient from where he sat in the windowsill of WWW with Oliver Wood, swallowing yet another pint of cider and vodka.

"I came to meet girls, and I can't do that with you around behaving like a sodding rain cloud all evening," he continued to drawl. "So go."

"You go," Wood responded somewhat irritably, motioning his teammate off toward the dance floor. "No one's stopping you."

Leadholt didn't move however, and Oliver hadn't been expecting him to do so. Alex had been somewhat curious about his teammate's preoccupation with Katie Bell when he had almost any witch at his disposal. There was also the fact he felt somewhat guilty about misdirecting Oliver on the night he was supposed to meet this illusive girl, and causing him to miss her altogether.

Overall, Wood was indifferent to his teammate's presence on the windowsill. He was rather too far into his own thoughts to pay much attention to outside distractions at the moment.

"Besides," he muttered ruefully. "I might be a bit more inclined to 'make my move,' as you so eloquently express it, if I wasn't dressed as a bloody ponce in frills."

As he spoke, Oliver lightly touched the saber that was hanging from his belt. Leadholt had somehow convinced him it was a good idea to dress as some deluded woman's concept of a romantic hero. He had on britches and a rather ridiculous starched white collar and ruff. He had never felt more absurd in his life. Still, quite a few girls were eying him hungrily-and not just the ones who followed Puddlemore Quidditch.

"Nah," Alex said dismissively, taking another swig of cider. "At least there, you've got it right. Birds love that 'period' shit."

"I'll make sure to tell Katie that when she ridicules me," Oliver said darkly. Alex laughed.

"Whatever, mate. But just you wait, you'll be singing my praises when she asks to hold your sword."

Oliver ignored his innuendo and took a deep breath, striding across the floor to where Katie was standing in a corner with her brother, Alicia Spinnet, Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson. Blocking out Alex's taunts and the disappointed looks of several females, he walked calmly over to greet his friends. He refused to remain another moment in indecision.

"Oliver!" Angelina shouted as soon as she caught sight of him. "God, Ollie, you look kind of…god-like."

She stared in apparent surprise and her boyfriend frowned slightly. Wood cracked a grin.

"Thanks, Johnson, you don't look too bad yourself," he said cheerfully as he reached and briefly acknowledged the others in the circle. "Spinnet…very fitting costume…Bell. Jordan."

Alicia grinned and Michael and Lee nodded in greeting.

"Katie, I'd like to dance with you if you're free," Oliver continued, turning directly to her and holding out his hand. "You look beautiful."

The others raised their eyebrows slightly and exchanged looks, but Wood ignored them. His gaze was fixed on Katie who, for her part, scarcely seemed to have heard him at all. Instead, her focus seemed to be on someone who had just appeared at the front door.

"Katie?" Wood repeated, undeterred.

Slowly, Katie turned back toward him with a complacent smile. "Can I take a raincheck on that, Oliver? I've just got to go check something…"

And without waiting for a response, she hurried off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving the remainder of her friends in confusion. Oliver closed his mouth tightly and ignored the others' looks of sympathy, turned around, and headed back for the windowsill. Time to regroup. Time to restrategize.

XxX

_Bloody younger Hogwarts girls_.

Katie had never cared for them while she was in school—she was finding them even more objectionable tonight, now that the small circle around George had grown and he appeared less and less alarmed by the situation, and more and more at ease. Alicia was right. George was suddenly and inexplicably being George again. The same rougish grin had appeared on his face, along with the glint he got in the corner of his eye whenever he was turning on his devil-may-care charm.

Why couldn't he just be like Oliver-? Oliver who was sitting in a windowsill, while his female admirers hovered at a safe distance, too terrified to actually approach him.

_George invites familiarity_. The thought popped into her head the second she asked the question. It had been what she herself had uttered some years ago to Alicia, who was distressed at some or other of George's female companions. And it was true. His mile-wide smile and easy, unaffected air invited anyone who wanted to know the redhead to do so. Odd that she should be saying it now to herself, however. Who was she to care or to question whom her friend chose to pass the evening with? It had never bothered her much before.

She supposed she was perturbed because she herself was not having a good time, or at least not _that _kind of a good time, the thought of flirting with anyone being as alien to her as the costume she was now wearing. Perhaps she had just believed George had felt the same way. Not that he had a reason to—he wasn't the one engaged to Fred, after all. Oh, why did it matter anyway? It did not.

Still, Katie was so immersed in her own thoughts she barely noticed the approach of Oliver Wood, nor the marked way he was fixing on her. She had just looked up to greet him when past his burly frame she noticed a very pretty blonde girl at the head of the line out the door. Katie felt instantly that it was the girl from the Quidditch match.

Barely aware that Wood had just asked her for a dance, and even less certain of the reply she gave, she moved past her friend and walked purposely toward the door.

"My shift, Potter," she said cheerfully to Harry who was sitting lazily on a stool and marking off those on the guest list. He looked confused.

"But George said they were supposed to be hour shifts…" he trailed.

"Are you really complaining?" Katie answered abruptly. "Now go down some firewhiskey like a normal person."

Slightly startled at her brusqueness, perhaps, or just anxious to get back to the party, Harry relinquished the clipboard and sauntered off into the crowd. Katie took her place just as her query approached.

"Name?" she asked, a little more coldly than she had expected.

"Magda Perkins," the girl answered, barely looking at Katie. Her eyes were trolling the dance floor and appeared to have settled on George.

Katie flipped through the clipboard and found Perkins, Magda easily.

"Hmm," she mused. "I'm not seeing you here…who invited you?"

Now Magda's attention was caught. She removed her glance from George. "I should be," she said. "Lee Jordan said he would put me down. I'm sure he'll recognize me…he wanted to introduce me to his friend, George Weasley. He's the one who owns this shop, right?"

Thinking quickly, Katie feigned remembrance. "_Oh_," she said, a bit overdramatically. "That's right. Lee mentioned you. The girl from the quidditch match, right?"

"That's right," Magda smiled. "So you'll let me through?"

"Of course," Katie answered wildly. "George was wondering about you because you…er…look so much like his mother!"

The girl's face contorted bizarrely. "What?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"Yes!" Katie said. "Bizarre, isn't it? He wanted to, um, see if you were related. George is big on family. And his mother. _Really _big on his mother."

Magda blanched. "I think I've just remembered something…" she said, turning around.

"Thought you might," Katie answered sweetly under her breath. "Bye!"

And the blonde disappeared through the door, the bunny tail on her short skirt bouncing as she bounced down the stairs in her high heels.

"That girl looks absolutely nothing _like_ my mother," said an amused voice behind her shoulder which made her jump. "Curious."

"Charlie Weasley," Katie said, half-amused and half-annoyed as she turned around to greet the second-born Weasley. "You wanker." He grinned at her.

"Fancy a dance?" he asked, and without waiting for a reply, seized her waist and led her to the dance floor where he pulled her easily into a close hold.

"I'm surprised George let you in without a costume," she observed, noting the simple long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.

Charlie shrugged. "Ah, well…" he said. "Family. And as you know, George is big on family."

Katie blushed deeply, but said nothing. They danced in silence for a moment before Charlie, unable to help himself apparently, began again.

"So what's the real story with the blonde, Katie Kate?" he asked conversationally, a bit of a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Bit of a grudge there, or simply looking out for my baby brother's best interest?"

Katie stared back at him haughtily. "It was simply a matter of crowd control," she answered. "It's all getting a little too hot in here, anyway. As you can see, if you just glance in the mere direction of your _baby brother_."

"The female half of the room does seem to be gravitating in that direction, doesn't it?" Charlie grinned. "Ah, George, he could never help himself. Got him in a fair bit of trouble from time to time, too. One Christmas, I remember, he came home with hex marks all over his face."

"That was actually Alicia's doing, I think," Katie answered, unable to help herself from laughing as well.

"And yet she seems to be fine now…" he trailed off mischievously. His dance partner chose not to take the hint, however, and began to cajole him about his own minimal dealings with romance. He laughed good-naturedly, but her wit was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a very determined looking Oliver Wood.

"I'm sorry, Weasley, but could I cut in?" Wood not so much asked, but stated. Charlie looked surprised, and barely had time to release Katie before Oliver swept her away and in the middle of the dancing couples. The bars of the song playing strained loudly.

"What the hell-?" Katie began, staring up at her friend wildly. It was so unlike Wood. "Oliver, what are you doing?"

"You promised me a raincheck, and I took it," he answered calmly. Idly, Katie noticed that Lee had taken up the post at the door, glancing in her direction in a somewhat resentful manner.

"I was dancing with Charlie…" she trailed off. She was more surprised than angry, and was additionally impressed with the firmness of his hold on her waist and the way he easily rotated her across the floor. _Who knew Oliver Wood could dance?_

"I know," he answered evenly. "But I wanted to dance with you. And besides, Katie, I have to talk to you."

She vaguely remembered him mentioning something along those lines earlier, and nodded.

"Alright."

He looked down at her seriously, his brown eyes seeming to bore a hole into her own with an intensity he usually reserved for Quidditch. Still, his tone was calm and even.

"I'm sure you've noticed," he began. "In fact, I _know _you know about my feelings for you."

She automatically opened her mouth to cut him off at the start, but he shook his head, silencing her.

"I'm sorry, Katie, but I need to tell you this. I like you. A lot. And I know the timing isn't convenient, and I know you probably don't want to deal with it, but I'm putting it out there. I've tried very, very hard to get you to notice me, and the lengths I've gone to win you, but so far you haven't seemed aware of it. So here's what I'm going to do—I'm going to stop, Katie. No more office visits, no more lunches. No more checking in to make sure you're doing alright."

She simply stared at him, bewildered.

"I want you to want me in your life, Katie, the same way I want you in mine. But that will never happen while I'm doing all the pushing. I'll still be your friend, but I'm going to behave toward you the same way I would any other friend. And Katie, I'm not going to dance with you again. Not until you ask me to dance with you."

The oddity of Wood's entire speech befuddled her, and Katie was able to configure her thought process only enough to question when she would have occasion to miss his dancing with her when Lee suddenly appeared at her side, eyes wide with what looked like anxiety and bewilderment.

"Sorry, Katie," he said, taking her arm and leading her away from Wood. "But I think you need to come to the door. Now."

Oliver Wood disapparated.

XxX

Alicia Spinnet was not enjoying herself. Her high heels were hurting her feet, and her boyfriend was a little too drunk to be deemed strictly chivalrous. She was constantly having to scold him for letting his hands wander, reminding him that their couplehood was still a well-guarded secret. Michael Bell simply seemed annoyed.

They danced in a corner where Alicia was sure Katie could not see, especially while Angelina was bobbing about with Dean Thomas in front of them. Alicia sighed and gazed over Michael's shoulder to where George was once again dancing with Parvati Patil, who was now sliding her arms over his chest. The insecurities and hurt of her Hogwarts days returned to her as she watched her ex-boyfriend navigate the swarm of young women eager for his attention.

_Why was it_, Alicia wondered, _that she could absolve herself of all feelings for George Weasley and still be hurt by his actions_? It was like it was a reminder to her that she had once been overlooked for these flights of fancy, and that even after she had been chosen, she remained second best. She was forever in the shadow of someone else.

The music turned slow and Michael encircled his arms about her waist. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and, with the aid of her very high heels, sought to hide her face in his soft brown curls.

"'Lic," he murmured in an unexpected tone of sobriety. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she answered automatically. "What makes you think something's the matter?"

He pulled away to face her. "You're sulking and you've been hitting away my hand for half the night. The only time I've seen you smile is when you're handing out sweets to Trick-or-Treaters."

"What do you know, you're drunk," she said, attempting to simply appear teasing.

"Not that drunk," he replied seriously. In an unwanted moment of clearness, Michael followed the quick flit her eyes made to Parvati Patil.

"Really, Alicia?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You don't know what it's like," she returned, scowling. "How could you? You've always gotten to be the dashing, star Quidditch player. You've never had trouble with girls. I was bookish, awkward Alicia who happened to be good on a broom and then forgotten during the week. You never put up with…"

She trailed off and then thrust her head in the direction of George and Parvati. "That," she finished lamely.

Michael considered her for a moment. "I'm sorry I've been a bore," he answered. "I probably shouldn't have drunk as much as I did, or have worn such a stupid costume. I realize that. And I realize I'm not the long-haul crush you had at school, but I do like you."

"I know," she answered quickly, feeling a little guilty for her outburst.

He gave her a small smile. "How about I prove it?" he proposed. "Come on, get your coat. We'll get a nice late dinner, and then go wherever you like, what do you say?"

Alicia hesitated. "What if Katie sees us leaving together?"

Michael glanced easily over her head and through the crowd. "Kates is dancing with Wood, he'll demand all her attention, trust me."

"I don't know…"

"Alicia. Come on. Come with me."

She couldn't help but smile a little at his earnestly impetuous face. _It was the present that mattered after all, wasn't it? _She nodded. "Yeah, alright," she answered.

"Good," Michael beamed. "Right this way, Miss Spinnet…it will be a fantastic evening, although I'm afraid I'm going to require that you have to stay in that skirt…hold on, what the-? No…"

For Michael had stopped dead in front of the open doorway of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Alicia, fumbling with her coat, ran into his back which had gone rigid. Puzzled, she glanced around him to where Lee Jordan appeared to have just opened the door. She peered around the doorframe. Michael's arm fell silently to his side, and Alicia's breath caught in her throat.

"Lee," she said authoritatively, once she had regained her speech. "Go get Katie."

XxX

Katie barely had time to complain that she was quite tired of being seized by a different man every five minutes before Lee had practically dragged her to the door where Michael and Alicia were standing, bizarrely frozen.

Katie failed to take in the oddness of the scene. "Oh for goodness' sake, Lee, it's just Michael and 'Lic. I _know_ they're…"

But she suddenly dropped off as she noticed a very familiar and very unexpected face at the doorstep. Lee dropped her arm as she ran to join her brother. She stopped just in time before she crashed into the figure. Her stomach had just flipped over.

"Dad?"

XxX

Parvati Patil continued to chatter determinedly in George's ear. This time she was going on about her new flat in London which she was sharing with her sister. She was dropping very strong hints that she would like him to see it, and George guessed that if he even expressed so much as a vague desire to, he could have been there within the hour and then stayed the night.

As it was, he was more focused on untangling himself from her limbs and crossing the dance floor to where Katie was dancing with his brother. He had still not gotten to talk to her since the few words they had exchanged at the beginning of the party. And much as he wanted to, he was getting sidetracked by the gaggle of girls that were surrounding him.

George couldn't pretend it wasn't nice to be receiving some female attention again after so many months of self-imposed isolation. He was certain Fred would have cajoled him for taking so long. And he had felt a bit of his old self reawaken, the old rush of pursuit reentering his system. At Hogwarts, he would have had one of these girls in a broom cupboard in under five minutes flat. Tonight, however, he was warring with his slightly nobler intentions of being with his friends. Namely, Katie.

"George!" Parvati demanded his attention once again. "I asked if you'd ever been to Wondsworth."

"'Course I have," George said idly. "Loads of times."

"And you've seen the apartments where I live? _The Belmont_?"

In the split second he had looked down at Parvati, Katie appeared to have changed partners. She was now dancing with Oliver Wood who was holding her quite close. He danced in a way that suggested he'd held her before—maybe in a bar? _Victory's Villa_? He felt all his animosity toward the pair return in a single second.

Then, suddenly, they were gone. He had once again made the stupid mistake of taking his eyes from them, and he had lost them. He glanced wildly toward the door—all he saw was Michael Bell stepping outside. They had left. Together.

"No I certainly haven't,," he returned, gazing back down at the very pretty girl who was now pressing her hips into his. "Why don't you show it to me? I'm sure Lee can hold down the party."

A wide grin spread across Parvati's face as she gripped onto his arm, and turned on the spot, disapparating with George tightly in hold.

XxX


	35. Father

**A/N: Severe writer's block stopped me from having this up faster. I apologize for the delay & for the fact that it's not very brilliant. It should be smooth sailing from here on out, though. Happy reading!**

XxX

Katie's eyes saw, but did not comprehend. There was a loud ringing noise in her ears that drowned out the rest of the room and the exuberant noise of passersby. She was dimly aware of Michael gripping her shoulder, but everything else seemed lost in a wash of blended color.

Her father spoke, but Katie only heard confused sound. She screwed up her eyes tightly, determined to try again. This time, her vision was more focused.

"Michael? Katie?"

The familiar voice shook her to her senses, and she let out a half-sob as she launched herself toward him in a fit of anguish and was enveloped in the arms of a surprised Nicolas Bell.

"Whoa…Katie…Katie-did, what's the matter?" the man half-laughed, gripping her shoulders, for she was suddenly sobbing uncontrollably and digging her nails into the back of his old leather overcoat. "Calm down, calm down, it's alright…"

Katie said nothing, only buried herself deeper into his chest, thinking nothing, saying nothing. She was feeling too much to give proper thought or speech to her actions, and continued to let the irrepressible sobs burst out of her body. Her father was here. He was back. He was holding her. She cared for nothing else.

"What—what are you doing here?" Michael suddenly interrupted, speaking for the first time. He had not moved from the spot where he first stopped in the doorway. Alicia, who stood beside him, silently gave Lee a look telling him they ought to leave. He nodded shortly, and the two quietly left the small family to themselves.

Nicolas looked up over the top of Katie's head to where his son was observing him disbelievingly, his mouth as wide as if he had seen a ghost.

"Hi, Michael," he answered, grinning wryly and extending an arm to beckon him out of the door. "Brilliant costume. You've always had my sense of humor."

"But…but…" Michael continued to stammer as he stumbled toward his father. "Azkaban…you…"

"I was innocent, actually," Nicolas returned conversationally as he clapped his son on the back. "Hard to believe, I know…now. Why don't we take a walk?"

"Alright," Michael said, nodding slightly. "Let's…er…go, then."

XxX

Nicolas Bell was a fairly tall man, and looked much like his son, save for the wire-rimmed spectacles he wore on his nose. He, too, was broad shouldered, brown eyed, and had a shock of sandy brown curls that were slightly unruly by nature. Azkaban, however, had not been kind. He looked as though he had aged twelve years instead of the twelve months he had actually been absent. He was thin, his cheeks were hollow, and he had significant wrinkling around his kind eyes.

He walked with his two children in silence, Katie having resumed her post clinging tightly to the crook of his arm while Michael walked at a slight distance, casting furtive glances toward him.

"Kates, take those wings off, you look ridiculous," he said offhandedly, still keeping his eyes on his father.

Katie didn't respond, however. Indeed, she didn't appear to hear her brother at all. She walked on down the damp and bustling street without a word. In her silence, Michael frowned and reached for the wings himself.

Nicolas put up a hand to stop him. "Hold on there, Michael. It's not often I get to see my daughter acting appropriately feminine, let's not spoil it."

Michael frowned. "Are you going to tell us how it is you've come to be here? And where the hell Mum is, and why you're not with her?"

"If you like," Nicolas responded congenially, placing his free arm around his son's shoulders. "Though it would have been polite to say it was nice to see me first."

Michael shifted uncomfortably under this statement, but his father just laughed. "It's alright, I won't take it personally," he continued. "The truth is that my papers have only gone through about an hour ago. I was Disapparated from Azkaban to the Ministry, and learned from Kingsley that I could probably find my children at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Halloween party if I wanted to stop there first. I thought I'd see measure your reactions first in order to gauge what your mother's might be. And honestly, I'm afraid to see…"

"But why?" Michael blurted out. "What took so long to get you out? You were arrested ages ago, I've been following the release processes…you should have been out at least ten months ago!"

Nicolas shrugged uncomfortably, and his son instantly read into his thoughts.

"You were letting other people go before you," he stated. It was not a question.

Mr. Bell did not respond. Michael laughed loudly.

"You _would_," he said simply. "And what was the rationale behind that? Your positive mental attitude to carry you through Dementor attacks?"

"They've removed the Dementors actually," Nicolas returned conversationally. "Azkaban isn't half bad. Except for the rats."

Michael laughed again. Katie said nothing, but tightened her grip on her father's arm.

"Mum's going to kill you, you know," Michael said matter-of-factly. Nicolas grimaced.

"Oh, I know."

XxX

Andromeda Bell was attempting to dry the dishes and put away leftovers at the same time. Her household spells, despite her 25 years as a mother, had never been particularly impressive. And she hated it. She could never let her daughter know that, however. Katie had enough problems with applying domestic skills already, she did not need tacit encouragement from her own mother. Muttering to herself vaguely about ungrateful sisters who ate and then left with mysterious American boyfriends, she accidentally let a plate drop midair as she had turned her wand to wrapping the leftover lasagna. She swore under her breath and then bent down to retrieve the pieces.

"You know, you really ought to be more careful with the dinner things, Meda," a voice said behind her. "They were gifts from my mother. Rather expensive, I think."

She whirled around in horror, wand at the ready, only to find herself face to face with her husband.

She screamed.

XxX

"WHERE THE PICKING HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" Mrs. Bell screeched.

Both Michael and Katie winced at the volume from where they hovered near the front door. Their father opened his mouth to answer, but his wife didn't wait for him.

"TWELVE BLOODY MONTHS! HUNDREDS OF LETTERS UNANSWERED! _YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE BACK TEN MONTHS AGO_!"

She threw her hands in the air and continued screaming.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NOW? WHY AREN'T YOU STILL IN AZKABAN?"

Her husband smiled slightly. "Would you like me to go back?" he asked mildly.

"STOP IT!" she shouted, now attempting to pound her firsts into his chest. Nicolas grabbed her shoulders and held her at a distance, half smiling, half sighing.

"I can," he said again. "I'll just go see Kingsley…"

"Quit. Trying. To. Be. Funny!" she sobbed, now succeeding in her goal of physically attacking him.

"Okay, okay!" Nicolas said, raising his hands in surrender. "I won't. No jokes. I promise."

She paused for a moment, looking up at him with watery blue eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She seemed unsure of whether or not to trust this statement.

"I've missed you," he said quietly.

"Oh, Nicolas!" she cried, now surrendering completely and collapsing onto his chest. Meda Bell sobbed uncontrollably.

"That," Michael said calmly to his younger sister, "is what I expected you to do."

Katie looked up at her brother, slightly amused.

"But you've just been so ruddy silent," he continued. "Why? The world is running mad, and you don't care?"

"No," she answered mildly, looking back at their parents.

"And why not, might I ask?"

Katie simply smiled wanly. "Because he's home," she answered. "And he's never leaving us again."

She returned her gaze to her brother. "We're a family again," she said. "What else can possibly matter?"

He smiled down at her. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, you're right. We are."

XxX

The first day of November began clear and cold, and found George Weasley momentarily unaware of where he was. The perfectly white ceiling and soft bed sheets had him confused until he glanced to his left and found a pretty dark-haired young woman asleep next to him, her arm draped across his chest. Then he remembered.

Smiling in a way that his friends would no doubt recognize as extremely self satisfied, George stretched out and returned his gaze to the ceiling. He had done well last night. Lee would be proud of him. Hell, Fred couldn't have even seen anything in his conduct to correct. He would have chastised him for taking so long to reenter the fine world of women, surely, but that was nothing. He had succeeded. He, George Weasley, was back on top.

In a few minutes, Parvati would wake up and offer George breakfast, which he would refuse and then offer to take her to lunch later in the week, where he would then thank her for the evening but explain he wasn't looking to get involved with anyone seriously at the moment. He knew the routine well enough, and from what he had gathered about Parvati last night, and from what he remembered from school, she wouldn't take it too badly. Fun was fun, after all. And as for Katie and Oliver, well…at least he would have something to distract him now from that situation.

Yes, there could be no other opinion on the subject—George Weasley was back.

XxX

George made it out of Parvati's and at his own doorstep by ten o'clock. Letting himself in through the front door, he made his way up the stairs to take a shower. Entering the flat rather loudly, he disturbed the pair of people in the bed closest to the door. Emitting a muffled groan, Angelina's head appeared from underneath the sheets.

"Bloody hell, George, want to keep it down? Some of us have a ruddy hangover from your stupid party last night…"

"Where have you been?" Lee asked curiously, now sitting up as well and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Doesn't matter," George said quickly, entering the kitchen for a bit of toast and orange juice.

"Did you spend the night with someone…?" he continued, raising an eyebrow. George turned around with a smirk on his face.

"Bloody hell, you did!" Lee grinned. "I knew it, didn't I, Ange? I said that's where you were. Well, who was she, then?"

"Parvati Patil," George replied, downing the glass of juice he had just poured for himself.

"_What_?" Angelina exclaimed. "George, I can't believe you…that girl is young enough to still be in Hogwarts if she wanted to!"

"She's not though," was George's reply, to which Angelina rolled her eyes.

"Still," she protested. "I thought you had matured. You're acting just the way you did at school! Spending the night with Parvati Patil…honestly."

"So what if I did?" the redhead retorted defensively. "What's the big deal? You clearly spent the night with Lee, Katie spent the night with Oliver, I spent the night with a pretty girl I knew from Hogwarts…it all evens out!"

Lee and Angelina exchanged glances quickly and then returned their gazes to stare at him.

"What?" he asked weakly.

"George, I don't know what you're talking about or why you think that, but Katie definitely did not spend last night with Oliver," Angelina said quietly.

"What are you talking about, Ange? I saw them leave together…er, well, I practically did. One minute they're dancing, the next, they've disappeared. And you were the one who invited him to that club with you three…they obviously began whatever is going on there. Though Katie's still denying that, by the way…"

Angelina shook her head firmly. "George, Katie and Oliver never even saw each other that night…I invited him, yeah, I admit it, but she left before he even got there. And last night, I don't know where Oliver went, but it wasn't anywhere with Katie. She was with…"

Here, she trailed off and glanced at Lee for support. Lee grimaced and then looked at his friend. "You'll never guess who turned up here last night, mate," he said.

"_Who_?" George asked, feeling his pulse begin to quicken. Again, the couple on the bed exchanged glances.

"Katie's dad," Angelina said finally.

George felt the balloon that was in his stomach turn to lead, dragging him down until he felt he had fallen through the floorboards of the flat, the shop, and into the cellar.

"Bloody hell," was all he could manage.

XxX


	36. To Have a Home

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your lovely, loving, and wonderful reviews. I was going to skip ahead a bit, but I felt like George & Katie needed some extra time with their families and so this chapter was born. More narrative progress next time, I promise. Cheers!**

Katie groaned as she shifted her sleeping position, dimly aware that the carpet fibers were pressing into the side of her face and creating a red and blotchy pattern. She hesitantly opened her eyes, blinking twice to find Michael's elbow inches from her face. She frowned as she took in the rest of him, spread eagle next to her and sleeping soundly. Her parents were a few feet away, also asleep on their living room floor, their arms around one another. Katie smiled softly. The family had dozed off around two o'clock in the morning after talking until they could no longer keep their eyelids open. The house was quiet around them and excepting an occasional grunt from her brother, her family slept in peace. All was well. Still well. She shifted slightly out of the reach of Michael's limbs, and then closed her eyes, smiling as she once more returned to sleep.

XxX

_The squeaking of her wet Converse on the hardwood floor seemed about a thousand times louder to Katie at three in the morning when she was attempting not to be heard than in the afternoon when her mother complained about her muddy footprints. Go figure._

_She took a deep breath and continued onward, only getting about two more steps before she heard "Hominem Revelio!" She felt herself being jerked somewhere behind her navel and before she knew what was happening, she was pulled into the sitting room to face her father, tell-tale broom in hand._

_Katie winced and attempted to be sporting._

"_Hello, Dad," she said cheerily. "How are things?"_

_Nicolas Bell raised an eyebrow. "They'd be quite a bit better if my only daughter was asleep in her bed," she said carefully in a voice Katie recognized as slightly dangerous._

"_I quite agree, which is why I was just headed that direction now…" she said quickly, gripping her Nimbus 1995 and making a quick dash for the stairs._

"_Not so quickly, young lady, if you don't mind." And with a lazy flick of her father's wand, Katie found herself suspended upside down by her ankle, broom clattering unhelpfully to the floor. Resigned now, she folded her arms and let out a huff of air._

"_Oh, fine, so I was sneaking out," she admitted. "You've caught me. Can we skip to the part where we laugh about it and agree not to tell Mum?"_

"Absolutely _not, Kathryn, you'll listen to me from right where you are."_

"_Kathryn? Who the bloody hell is Kath—"_

"_Katie!" Nicolas said in such a strong tone that she immediately fell silent._

"_Death Eaters were at the World Cup just three days ago! A breakout at Azkaban, and my daughter thinks it's alright to stay out all hours of the night doing God knows what—"_

"_Fred knows how to apparate!" Katie said somewhat defensively._

"_Fred Weasley is sixteen!" her father retorted. "As are you, I might remind you…"_

_He sighed and sat down again, rubbing the crease between his eyes._

"_Do you have any idea what it's like for a head deputy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to find his daughter out of bed in the middle of the night and not be able to locate where she's gone?" he asked in a quiet voice. _

_Katie frowned. "I'm sorry, Dad," she muttered._

_He just shook his head and waved his wand, ending the enchantment. Katie floated down to the floor, righted herself, and sat next to him, putting her hand on his back._

"_How does Fred know how to apparate already?" Nicolas asked after a pause._

_Katie shrugged. "He practices," she answered. "And he's Fred."_

"_What were the pair of you doing, anyway?"_

_Even in the darkness of the sitting room, it was possible to discern a slight twinge in Katie's cheeks and she looked off into a far corner of the room._

"_Oh God," her father groaned._

"_No, nothing like _that_," Katie quickly corrected. "George was with us. Well, at least for a while…we played Quidditch. And for the record, he cast all of those protective spells you and Mr. Weasley taught us around the area we were playing, so…"_

_Nicolas just shook his head. "Well at least one of you was thinking clearly," he muttered. "If you absolutely have to date one of the Weasley twins, can't it at least be the sensible one?"_

_Katie laughed loudly. "George would kill you if he knew you ever referred to him as sensible," she said, getting up. "And all of Hogwarts would die of shock…"_

_She made to go up the stairs to her room, but her father caught hold of her arm._

"_Kathryn?" he said, seriously again. She turned._

"_Yeah?"_

"_I'm glad you're alright."_

_She smiled slightly at his careworn face. "Me too," she said, giving him a hug and a swift kiss on the cheek. Night, Dad."_

"_Be careful," he whispered into her ear, barely audible. "I can't protect you forever."_

_She pulled away, looking somewhat concerned. He smiled and shook his head free of the weightiness and the tension._

"_But I will while you're under this roof," he said. "I promise. Now…off to bed at this instant and I promise no word to your mother." _

_XxX_

George drummed his fingers listlessly on the kitchen table of the Burrow and stared out at the heavy rain that was falling on the countryside of Ottery St. Catchpole. The Sunday afternoon was a quiet one; with Ginny gone at school and Ron having moved out with Harry, it was just his parents at home. The surfeit of emotions that had followed him since the revelation that it was Katie's father, and not Oliver Wood, whom she had left with the previous night were multiplying and weighing him down, dashing out in all possible directions. He had slept with Parvati Patil…Katie would find this out. What would she think? Would she even have room in her head to think anything? Katie had her father back…her family was complete. His was not. He was still missing something; he was still half of a whole. And somehow, in the wake of all this, he had ended up at his parents' house. His pretense was to share the news of Mr. Bell's return. His reality was to seek shelter from the unceasing downpour of his mental frame.

His mother was now scrubbing the dishes from the French onion soup they had eaten for lunch, and his father was still seated at the table, eyeing him thoughtfully. George was aware of this and avoided Mr. Weasley's gaze as carefully as possible.

"It's just wonderful, isn't it?" Mrs. Weasley said for what must have been the fiftieth time that afternoon. "After all of this sorrow and heartache, Meda and her family finally have some sunlight. They deserve it more than anyone, I suppose…family whittled down to just two of them, suddenly to have everyone back together under the same roof. Bless me, I don't know how long it's been since she's had reason to smile…have you heard from Katie, Georgie? Did she say what their plans are? I'd take a holiday, that much I know…"

"Don't know, Mum," George mumbled, still staring at the faded tablecloth.

He couldn't help but agree with her, of course. He might as well start packing Katie's things away for her now. There was not a chance she would want to go back to living with him and Lee after this. He thought idly—one of the many avenues this development had taken him down—of what he himself would do if it had been Fred who had shown up outside the door and his family was suddenly complete once again. He would not return to the dingy flat with Lee and Katie; that much was certain. He wasn't even sure he would be selfless enough to share the news with them. He would go away. _They _would—together, somewhere far away from where they were now. George wouldn't tell anyone, not even his family, that Fred had returned. It wouldn't matter; it wouldn't even occur to them that they ought to. It would just be the pair of them, like it used to be, without a care for anyone or anything beyond the fact that they were reunited at last. And they would start all over again and never look back. Not once.

Mrs. Weasley hummed something inconsequential and stepped outside to empty the trash can. The door swung shut again, but not before bringing in a small puddle of rainwater on the tiled floor.

"George?" His father's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he turned his eyes toward the balding ginger across from him.

"What's up, Dad?" he asked, a little disconnectedly.

"How are you feeling today?" The question was a simple one, but George somehow felt his father knew exactly how he was feeling and probably even the reasons why. He just shrugged in lieu of an actual reply.

Arthur considered him and then leaned back slightly in his chair.

"You know," he said quietly, after a measured pause. "I was telling your mother the other night…there's nothing quite as entirely devastating as to lose your child. Nothing quite ever touches it. I'm sorry, George, but it's true. You just don't know what it's like—the utter unfairness of having to bury someone you've watched grow from the time they were no bigger than a bowtruckle. You raise them; you know everything about them. Every weakness, every strength, every turn of their countenance. You watch how they react to certain sets of circumstances and you can tell, to some degree, how they'll behave in the future. And believe it or not, George, your mother and I know you, just as we knew Fred. Maybe it's because there were two of you, I don't know, but we got to see everything—not duplicated—but intensified. You were individuals, both of you. Both incredibly brave, both fiercely loyal and fiendishly clever, but individuals. Nothing will ever make up for losing Fred—it can't even come close. And none of us will even be quite complete again. But George…I tell you this and I mean it; we have been so fortunate to have you. You've saved us all, in a way. Simply by being you."

"Oh yeah, and how's that?" George asked, finally meeting his father's eye line. Arthur's eyes were glistening with tears.

"You're fearless. And steady. And you carry on when no one else can."

George slowly studied his father's face.

"That's what makes you an individual," Arthur said quietly.

George felt his eyes well up with tears and he made no attempt to quell them. The two men stood up and embraced. He had not known it before, but this was exactly what he had needed to hear.

XxX

When Katie awoke for the second time, it was to the smell of fried ham and biscuits. She smiled, eyes still closed, trying to capture hold of the last few seconds of her departing dream, to stay in her father's arms just a little while longer. His voice, however, was now what jolted her back into reality.

"Breakfast's on!" Nicolas Bell shouted from the kitchen. "Those having a lie in are given no mercy."

Katie opened her eyes and sat up, only to be knocked down again by her brother's feet. Michael stumbled over her after his untimely leap into the air, and without pausing to help her up, dashed into the kitchen. "Sorry Kates!" he yelled. "But breakfast is a serious business."

"So it would seem," she muttered darkly, rubbing her head where his foot had made contact. She hoisted herself back up and peered into the kitchen. From what she could see, her father was flipping biscuits into the air while her mother held onto his free arm and leaned against him, kissing his cheek. Michael now skidded to a halt, wormed his way between them and grabbed a piece of ham fresh from the skillet.

"God, that's hot!" he yelped as soon as the meat touched his tongue.

"You've raised such intelligent children, my dear," Mr. Bell remarked dryly, though a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. Katie grinned at this, quickly got up and slid on the balls of her socked feet into the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad!" she said cheerily, also worming her way between her parents to give her father a tight hug.

"Hullo, Katie Did," he returned pleasantly, kissing the top of her head. "Still clingy today, are we?"

"Only slightly," she answered, smiling.

"Is Aunt Liz not in yet?" Michael asked suddenly, glancing up the stairs.

"Yes, where is your sister?" their father seconded. "Haven't been able to scare her yet…"

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "I expect she's stayed the night with _Daryl_," she said, barely concealing her disapproval.

Katie scrunched her nose. "Who is _Daryl_?" she asked.

Andromeda shrugged her shoulders in a way that suggested she knew quite a bit more than she let on. "Some American Quidditch person who's been in the country collecting information to help improve the league there," she answered. "Elizabeth has been seeing him for about a month now."

"Hold on," her daughter said, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Was this the date you supposedly approved of her missing the Weasley's for? In a not so subtly disguised attempt at guilting me for not seeing Oliver Wood?"

Her mother struggled uncomfortably. "That was a different matter," she finally settled on. "I didn't think it would turn _serious_…"

The entire family laughed and decried the sentiment, and soon they were settled around the table and eating the hot and delicious meal. Afterward, Michael quickly 'called' the shower and dashed upstairs to stake his claim while Meda disappeared into the sitting room.

"Better owl Elizabeth and make sure she really _is _in the throws of passion and not unconscious in a ditch somewhere…"

Nicolas laughed and collected the dishes to place in the sink. "Your mother's such a positive figure," he said playfully as he gazed across the kitchen at his daughter.

Katie simply smiled and unconsciously twirled the engagement band whose chain had managed to escape the t-shirt of her jim jams in the night. The glint of the silver caught her father's eye and he instantly sobered, a sad half-smile forming across his face.

"I was so very devastated when I heard about Fred," he said quietly. "Even more so because I had no way to contact you. I'm so sorry, Katie Did."

Katie frowned and looked down at the simple ring on the chain. "Thanks," she answered, barely audible. "So am I."

Mr. Bell considered her for a moment, then crossed the room and encased her hand in his own.

"The people we love never really leave us," he said gently. "They make us who we are. And until we forget that, we'll never be alone."

Katie felt her throat tighten, but said nothing.

"Do you remember when I told you I would always protect you as long as you were under this roof?" he continued after a slight pause.

Slightly surprised by this coincidence, Katie simply nodded.

"You've never needed me to," he said, amused but a little ruefully. "You've been doing that for yourself as long as I can remember."

Katie now smiled back, returning the pressure on her father's hand.

XxX


	37. Missed You, Missing You

**A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful & thoughtful reviews—you guys are seriously the best ever. This chapter is extra long & covers a lot of material, so I'm sorry about that, but I'm working on a goal to get to my Christmas chapter by actual Christmas. It's a pretty steep feat and I'm not promising anything, but it's what I'm aiming for. So please, read, review, & enjoy. Cheers!**

George failed to repress a large yawn as he closed the door to the back room of his shop. It had been a particularly long Wednesday; there were more customers than usual and they were suffering from Lee's absence. He had contracted the flu over the weekend and was currently in bed upstairs.

"So how'd we do?" Ron asked excitedly. The youngest Weasley brother had been particularly keen on improving profit margins since he had looked at the calendar and realized he had two months to finance his growing Christmas list, which presumably included something rather large for Hermione.

George simply leaned against one of the checkout counters and stared at him.

"Well you've done the books, haven't you?" Ron pressed on.

"I have," George replied.

"And…?"

"We've done well," he answered simply. "Now run off, Ron, I've somewhere to be tonight and I've got to get changed."

Ron observed him shrewdly. "Who are you going to see?" he questioned. "It's a girl, isn't it?"

George gave him a look. "Seriously, Ron, take off."

"I work here!" the younger Weasley protested. "Now, come on, tell me. I could, you know, give you a few tips or something. If I know her."

George laughed now. "It will be a dark day indeed when I need women advice from you, little brother," he said as he directed Ron to the doorway by the shoulder. He opened the door and pushed him out into the street. "Now stay out or you won't be receiving your share of the year-end bonus."

Ron shouted a muffled protest, but George was already halfway across the shop floor. He rubbed his temples as he climbed the stairs up to his flat, trying to mentally prepare himself for what he had to do that evening. He just hoped she would be understanding—and not too difficult.

Loosening his tie, George kicked open the door to his closet and was preparing to undress and dump his shop clothes at the bottom when two hands covered his eyes and made him jump.

"Surprise!"

"What the-?" George shouted.

Katie Bell laughed and removed her hands, turning him around to face her.

"Your reactions aren't quite what they used to be, George Weasley," she said, smiling. George could do nothing but stand with his mouth slightly open.

"Hi," he said finally, leaning over to give her a quick hug. "What are you doing here, Kay?"

She smirked, shifting her gaze from left to right. "Well I live here," she said. "Or have you forgotten over the past four days?"

George laughed in spite of himself. "No, no…" he said. "I mean, I thought that now you've got your dad back, you'd…you know…move out."

Katie frowned. "Why would I do that?"

Now it was George who appeared confused. "You were only evicted because your dad was in Azkaban," he explained. "I thought you'd want to go back to your old flat now that that's not an issue…or move home…"

Katie bit her lip. "Right," she said. "Hadn't thought of that…"

George waited nervously for her verdict until he realized it was probably his position to say something.

"Of course, you can always choose to stay if—"

"Yes!" she interrupted eagerly, then laughed at her own forwardness. "I mean, yes, I'd like that very much."

George's face broke into a wide grin as he felt his tension drop.

"Thank God," he said, giving her another hug. "I was afraid you were going to take the telly…"

Katie coughed out an indignant noise and pushed the redhead away from her. "Tosser!" she accused, laughing. George gave her his best winning grin and took her back in his arms, which she sank into readily.

"I'm glad you've come back," he murmured gently into her ear, and he could feel her smile against him.

"Me too," she answered.

It was at that moment that Lee came out of the toilet, looking extremely ill. George withdrew immediately.

"Look Lee, Kates has come back," he announced cheerily in order to cover up his ridiculous action.

"Well, well, well," Lee said, supporting himself by gripping onto the kitchen counter. "Come back for good, have we?"

"I have," Katie answered, smiling broadly. "And you've no need to worry about dinner tonight, because I'm cooking!" She hoisted the grocery bags into the air proudly.

"Oh, God." Lee covered his mouth and ran again for the bathroom door.

Katie frowned. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

George was thankfully spared from answering this question ,with which he was having serious moral struggles, by Lee's sudden reappearance in the room.

"False alarm, s'okay," he said, holding up a hand as Katie crossed the room to check on him. "I'm sure that will be lovely, Kates. Might have a bit left over, though. I'm not feeling my best, and Georgie's going out tonight. With a girl."

Katie turned to look at George curiously, her brow furrowed. "You are?" she asked.

George immediately felt his jaw tighten and directed a death glare at Lee, but his friend was too busy chuckling over Katie's expression.

"Yep," he answered gleefully. "Miss Parvati Patil, formerly of Gryffindor House. How about that?"

"Oh," Katie answered, clearly dumbfounded but not taking her eyes off of George. "Oh, right. Of course…how nice."

"Eh, not really," Lee continued, still unable to see the tension between the two others in the room. "For her, anyway. Soon as George spends the night with her, he gets cold feet and bolts. But what can we say, Georgie? Old habits die hard, eh?" He laughed, and looked back at George who was clenching his fists and scowling darkly at his friend.

Immediately, Lee sobered up and swallowed nervously. "Erm..right," he said. "I think I _am _going to be sick again…'scuse me…"

Slightly stricken, George turned his attention back toward Katie, completely unsure of what kind of expression he would be meeting there. To his surprise and horror, she looked as though she had just been told that her dad was about to be locked up again.

"You…_slept with her_?" she asked in an incredulous whisper from across the room. George pursed his lips and dropped his eye line from hers in an extremely guilty manner.

"Oh my God," she continued in the same small voice. "I mean…wow. Okay."

"Kates, I—" George began, but abruptly stopped. He what? He was sorry he had gone to bed with a pretty girl because he thought she was off doing the same thing with Oliver Wood? That it was actually killing him to suppress his feelings for someone else and he had snapped? And then it struck him—he had no need to explain any of this to Katie at all. There was nothing between the two of them. He had done nothing terribly wrong, really. He was a free man.

"It's okay," Katie said, holding up a hand and shaking her head. "I just didn't know you were dating again, that's all…I mean, if you call that _dating_…"

"Katie, it was a mistake," George said in his clearest, most measured voice. "I'm going now to tell her that. It's not a big deal. Just didn't expect Lee to go blabbing to half of the United Kingdom about it…"

The brunette frowned. "_I'm _not half of the United Kingdom," she said firmly.

George let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well I know that, Kay, but I usually don't fill you in on my romantic life, do I? It's just not… Anyway, look, I was feeling lonely, she was pretty, she fancied me, and I caved, didn't I? I wanted somebody. And it's not like you were there…"

Suddenly conscious of what he had just let slip out, George immediately shut his mouth and snapped his gaze back up at Katie. _Moron! What had he just done…? _She was staring at him curiously.

"What do you mean, 'I wasn't there?'" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Nothing," George said quickly, turning his back on her and pulling a sweater over his head. "See you later, alright? And make sure Lee doesn't get sick all over the flat?"

And he darted out the door, down the stairs and into the night, cursing himself furiously.

XxX

Katie was left staring dumbfounded at the swinging door. She kept one hand on the bag of groceries she had set down on the counter and said nothing. Lee suddenly emerged again from the toilet and looked around.

"So," he asked, breaking the silence. "What are we having?"

"Kates?" he prompted again, when she didn't answer. Shaking herself out of it, Katie met his eye line and grinned falsely.

"You know, I'm not feeling much like cooking anymore," she answered, shoving the grocery bag away and out of sight. "Do you want to just order out?"

Lee grinned. "You know I'm all about that," he answered, flopping out on his bed. "Send the owl out for some Chinese, will you? It's the only thing that doesn't make me want to wretch…"

An hour later, Katie sat cross-legged on her bed, picking at some noodles with a pair of chopsticks. She tried to chat idly with Lee, but her mind wasn't focused on the conversation and she was too proud to steer it toward what she most wanted to know. Could George Weasley conceivably have feelings for her?

The thought was ridiculous. George was never interested in any girl above the length of a week, barring Alicia. And they had always been so comfortable with one another, like family. She was his twin brother's girlfriend. Yes, the thought was extremely ridiculous. And yet, Katie could think of no other explanation for her friend's comment. _And it's not like you were there_…

There to what? To pursue instead? Katie shook her head in shame at the thought. It was pure nonsense, and egotistical nonsense at that. She had a fleeting vision of herself and George dancing together the way he and Parvati had been, and then George leading her by the hand out into the night. She instantly banished this in horror. It was unnatural and wrong, though she could not explain away the sense of anger and betrayal she had felt when Lee had casually mentioned that George and Parvati had slept together. It still angered her now, though she knew the feeling was irrational.

George had every right to pursue women if he wanted. _He _had not been the one dating Fred, after all. And he was beginning to heal, there was no denying that…that women should reenter the portrait of George' s life was natural, and Katie had no right in the world to feel angry. She idly fingered the ring on the chain around her neck. _She _was the one in love with Fred; it made sense that she reviled the dating scene. And if she was the true friend she felt she was, she wouldn't hold George back simply because he was progressing in different ways. Grief was individual, not collective, wasn't it?

She supposed she had simply hoped this experience—this grief, this situation, their relationship—had made him smarter than that. She was sure it had, in some ways. George was infinitely more mature now than he was a year ago—but that had not altered his romantic life, apparently. And he was right, it was silly of her to assume that simply because they were closer now than they had been, that he should tell her all of his exploits. Katie had simply grown used to them being open with each other.

Suddenly, it hit her. That was it—George had only meant that Katie hadn't been there at the party to talk to about his feelings. He had told her he was feeling lonely. It was natural that he would, throwing a party without his twin brother to operate as his wing man, and it wasn't as though she was having the time of her life either. He _had _grown accustomed to talking to her whenever he wanted about whatever he wanted—and she had been gone. _He _felt guilty because he had gone outside of this relationship and _she _felt betrayed because he had done so. That was all there was to it.

Katie cringed in embarrassment that she had thought his stupid comment had meant more than that. She wasn't quite sure this version of events made complete sense (why was George simultaneously feeling lonely and also making important strides toward healing?), but she was done thinking about it. It was, after all, none of her business, and frankly, the less she thought about George and Parvati Patil, the better.

XxX

Determined to be satisfied with her theory as she was, Katie still couldn't shake the feelings of distress about this new development the next morning—though she saw with slight relief that George was in his own bed, no sign of the younger girl in sight. She had, however, gotten up and left earlier than usual to avoid having to talk to him again. She felt she needed a little space to fully grow used to this change in dynamic.

Katie entered the _Daily Prophet_ newsroom determined to focus on her work. Due to her father's return, she had missed another three full days of work and although Germaine Hudson had expressed her understanding of the situation, Katie did not want these increasingly frequent absences to put a dent in her still-young career. Her first order of business was to print a retraction of her previous editorials, an idea she had humbly presented to Hudson via owl the morning following her father's return.

She dumped her old messenger bag into the bottom drawer of her desk and set herself down with an enormous yawn.

"Back to working early again?" queried Jacquelyn with a raised eyebrow as she peered at her friend over the divide between their desks.

"I think so," Katie answered, nodding distractedly as she searched for her coffee mug. "God willing, nothing else will suddenly crop up and derail my life again for the next few months…unless it's extremely pleasant, of course."

"Like seeing your father again?" she smirked.

Katie smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Exactly like that," she murmured as she located the missing mug and brought it up to her lips. She immediately spewed out the black liquid.

"Blood hell!" she shouted loudly enough for a few other reporters to glance her way in mild interest. "Jaq, this coffee is stone cold!"

"I should say so," her friend replied, looking faintly disgusted. "It's been sitting there for six days."

"But the coffee mugs always fill themselves!" Katie protested. "Every morning, it's hot and fresh with a bit of cream—just the way I like it. And today…"

Jacquelyn laughed slightly. "Katie, the coffee mugs don't fill themselves…" she said as though this were obvious.

"They don't?"

"No! Wood always fills yours for you before you get to work every morning…thought you knew that."

Katie simply sat in silence, clutching the mug and shaking her head slowly.

"Bit odd he didn't today, actually," Jacquelyn mused. "But I suppose he didn't know you were coming back today, did he?"

"Mmm," Katie agreed as she stood up to go fill her mug afresh. "Maybe that's it…"

She knew this wasn't the reason, however. In the events since the Halloween party, Katie had not thought once about Oliver Wood. There was too much else going on and she hadn't exactly had occasion to think of him until now, and now the memory of their last conversation flooded her brain. She took the kettle off of the magical burner and poured more coffee into the freshly washed cup. So Oliver Wood had finally vocalized his intentions toward her. It wasn't as though she was unaware of his interest—he had been fairly clear—but she hadn't been expecting a direct ultimatum, either. And what he had said was so odd… _I'm not going to dance with you again. Not until you ask me to dance with you._

When on earth would she have occasion to wish Oliver were dancing with her? It wasn't as though they threw huge parties frequently, or anything…no, it was the other half of Wood's ultimatum that made her frown slightly. _No more office visits, no more lunches. No more checking in to make sure you're doing alright. _It wasn't as though she needed it—she lived with two other people now, and most of Wood's visits, while pleasant, slightly put her off her work. But she had grown accustomed to him popping in and out of the newsroom at odd moments, extending her lunch hours with a flirtatious remark to Hudson, and making Jacquelyn go red daily. It would definitely be different without his cheerful presence. But she could deal with it—she would simply have to eat lunch with other employees from now on. And apparently get her own coffee in the mornings.

XxX

When Jacquelyn announced that she had friends from her Beauxbatons days taking her out to lunch, Katie was fairly put out. She realized she had unconsciously been hoping to somehow prove to Wood that she didn't need his extra measures of friendship in order to be happy. Now she was once again alone and heading to the shared Ministry and _Prophet_ cafeteria. She blearily wondered if Percy would be there somewhere, discussing obscenely detailed and boring topics with others witches and wizards and she could steal a seat next to them.

No such luck, however. She had taken her lunch fairly late that day in order to avoid the impending humiliation, and the cafeteria was fairly sparse. She saw no one she recognized. Letting out a sigh, she sat herself down at a table nearest the corner and took out her sack lunch. At least Wood wasn't there—maybe morning practice had gone extra long, or Bagman had given him the day off. She wrestled with conflicting feelings of relief and disappointment when a man a few yards off shifted and revealed Wood, sitting with a few people his age Katie vaguely recognized from his year in school. She ducked immediately, but not before Wood saw her. She dreaded him coming over to say hello, but instead he simply smiled, waved, and went back to talking with his mates.

_Huh_. Katie frowned. Well she hadn't expected that. Wood had said he was going to treat her as he would any other friend—and yet he clearly wasn't sitting at a table and laughing with her, nor was he inviting her over to his. Was she being snubbed? _No_, an annoying voice inside her head replied. _If you were Angelina, for example, he'd just wave at you, too_. She bit into a carrot stick moodily and stared down at the empty table. She had never felt more pathetic in her life.

Throughout the following half hour, Katie watched as Oliver laughed and chatted with his friends, eating what looked like an extremely delicious ham and potato pie. As his friends dispersed, Wood stood up to leave and she sat up, preparing to meet his eye contact and engage in a conversation, somehow defending her lonely status, but he simply smiled as he passed her and kept on.

"Hey, Wood!" Katie blurted before she could help herself. Her annoyance with the former-Gryffindor Keeper had reached a head.

Oliver turned around. "Hi Katie," he said pleasantly. "How's it going?"

"Come sit down," she said pointedly. He shrugged easily and pulled out the chair next to her.

"Okay, but I can only stay a few minutes," he said. "Bagman wants me back, and then I've got evening practice afterward."

"Weren't you going to say hello to me?" she glowered.

"I did," he said, sounding surprised. "I waved to you earlier. You didn't see me?"

Katie frowned at her friend. "You know perfectly well I saw you," she replied. "Why didn't you come over or invite me to sit with you?"

Wood sobered and twitched his mouth slightly. "Kates, I said no more lunches, remember?"

"I know that," she answered quickly, looking away embarrassedly. "I just thought…you know…"

He sighed. "Things have to be different, Katie," he said. "I can't keep acting like your boyfriend when you don't want me to be."

She flushed deeply and looked away. Perhaps wanting to cover the odd moment for her, Wood changed the topic.

"Hey, I met Elizabeth's new bloke by the way," he said, grinning. "Daryl Albright. He's a decent guy, very interested in revitalizing the American Quidditch league. They don't have much going for them, really…oh, but you know that. Anyway, he's been in the office a lot lately. Very chatty."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "You've met him?" she asked. "Aunt Liz has been very secretive…"

Oliver shrugged. "Yeah, we get on well. Elizabeth brought him lunch a couple of days ago and we all ate together. It was fun, you missed out."

Katie grimaced and clutched her paper sack so that it crumpled.

"Well, I should probably be going. See you around, Bell…"

"Oliver!" Katie shouted out as he was rounding the corner.

"Yeah?" he asked turning back.

"Do you want to go to the pub sometime?" she asked before she could come up with a better way to phrase her feelings. "It might be fun."

Wood nodded. "Yeah, alright, you're on. Invite everyone else and let me know when, alright?"

And then he disappeared. Katie crumpled what was left of the sack into a ball and tossed it into the bin.

XxX

Feeling that she ought to actually cook the food she had bought yesterday, Katie was now chopping up vegetables to put in the stew she was planning on making for herself and Lee. It turned out to be a good decision as Lee still wasn't feeling well and was lying down in the back room of the shop, apparently needing a break from working the floor. George had decided to stay open for an extra hour and a half in the next couple of months leading to Christmas, and the lads were still downstairs catering to the demands of their customers.

Katie slammed the knife down perhaps too hard on the cutting board and sighed. If only she knew how to make the vegetables chop themselves, like Mrs. Weasley and her mother could… She thought fondly of home and how her mother and father might now be sitting down to dinner, maybe with Aunt Elizabeth, going over the day, and enjoying the feeling of being reunited that still had yet to fade. Maybe she should have never left home-her mother certainly hadn't wanted her to. Or maybe she ought to have moved back into her old flat and lived on her own again. She had only been back one day and already the pressures and obscurities of her life were crowding out the happiness she had felt with her father back. Stupid feelings, suspicions and jealousies revolving around the people in her life seemed unnecessary and ridiculous. Had it always been like this, and she had just gotten used to it? The four days she had been gone seemed like months.

As she murmured a heating charm to boil the broth, George emerged in the room with an enormous yawn. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his vest, and came over to peer into the boiling pot.

"Smells great, Kay," he said encouragingly, perhaps in a more wishful manner than a sincere one. She chose to take the compliment, however.

"Lee still downstairs?" she asked.

"Yeah, he'll be up in a few minutes. He was nearly sick all over the Ton Tounge Toffees this afternoon. I made him lie down for the rest of the day. How was work?"

She shrugged. "It was…alright, I guess."

George looked down at her in a considering way. "Hey," he said softly. "I'm sorry about last night. I'm a git, and I should have realized that we're closer now, and that I shouldn't try to keep things from you. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She simply smiled wanly and continued chopping the vegetables. "Not at all," she answered. "I'm happy you're, you know, feeling more yourself."

George opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it, and simply put his hand on top of hers, ceasing her chopping.

"I've missed you," he said quietly, but smiling. Katie sighed, unable to not feel pleased at this and squeezed his hand back.

"I've missed you, too."

XxX


	38. Fancy a Dance?

**A/N: So (obviously) I did not get this up by Christmas. But the material I had planned spanned more chapters than I'd previously thought, and honestly, the lack of/slow rate of reviews last time was a little disheartening. Plus, I did get caught up in Christmas and being home with friends & family, etc. BUT—I still love you all & promise slightly more speedy updates when I can manage them. Hope you all had fantastic holidays, whatever it is you celebrate!**

**P.S. DoubleCaramel, I wish you received PMs, because I always love your reviews & want to respond, but I can't! Know you're loved, though!**

**And now, without further ado…the actual next chapter.**

The weeks of November passed with little incident. Michael was thrilled to find himself number ninety-three of the _Witch Weekly_'s 100 Most Eligible Bachelors list, described as a "daredevil curly-top with rougish charm." The boys were doing extremely well at the shop, and George was considering the idea of taking up a Hogsmeade location after Christmas. A story Katie had written had made second page, Alicia was being promoted from junior healer, and Angelina had managed to land one of her clients an interview with one of the highest-rated networks on the WWN. Oliver was simply grateful not to be on the Most Eligible Bachelors list at all.

The last day of the month, a Saturday, found George, Lee, Ron, and Katie decorating the shop for Christmas. It was a rather odd business—simultaneously pleasant, frustrating, amusing, and sad. Katie had been dreading this season more than any other. The forced cheer seemed to contrast almost comically with the rather gaping hole left by Fred, her grandfather, her uncle, and countless others. It seemed like a game where the universe picked off those she cared most for one by one, while shoving a banquet of trees, fake snow, and ubiquitous smiles toward her face and seeing when she would snap. Her plan was to operate mechanically through the yuletide bliss and avoid, as much as possible, letting memories of past seasons seep through.

Katie smiled up at the snowflakes that fell softly from the ceiling and disappeared halfway down. The store really did look wonderful—garland, lights, and bright-colored bows lined the windows, tall trees covered in seasonal merchandise scattered the shop floor, and everything was scrubbed until it shone. George had even installed a large fireplace at the opposite wall with magical flames that heated the entire building.

Outside, rain splattered the windows—a typical winter's day in London—and crowds of shoppers rushed through Diagon Alley, darting in and out of shops, emerging with their arms full of packages. Standing outside Flourish and Blots, a young woman waited, her hair running with rain, until a man emerged and pulled out an umbrella. He held it out for her and slipped a hand around her waist, kissing her lightly on the temple and readjusting her scarf. Katie frowned as she slipped the golden ribbon she was holding into a bow and hung it on the nearby tree branch. Lee watched her and slipped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug from behind.

"I know, it's altogether a rum business, isn't it, Christmas?" he said playfully from where he rested his head on her shoulder. "Blasted waste of one of the best weather seasons on the calendar."

Katie rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her. "Aren't you supposed to be hanging the Christmas star?" she accused pointedly.

Lee shook his head. "Nope. George's job," he said promptly. "He's the tallest and gangliest one here."

"Thanks, Lee," George called sarcastically from where he stood on a ladder across the room. "In case you hadn't noticed, that tree is about twelve feet tall."

Lee shrugged indifferently. "Hard to tell with you sometimes. You stand on tiptoes and disappear into the rafters."

Katie gave a half-smile and continued her work on the tree. Lee considered her a moment and stepped over to help her reach a higher branch.

"Cheer up, Kates," he said in a lower tone. "I'll admit no one really wants the holidays this year, but we might as well enjoy them, right?"

She scoffed slightly. "Is that possible?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Lee shrugged his shoulders. "If nothing else, it's an excuse to pop whatever you fancy into your mouth for a month or so."

Katie laughed in spite of herself. "I think I do that anyway," she smiled.

"Come on," he said kindly. "Let's just take it one day at a time, okay?"

She nodded, and accepted the hug that he was offering.

"We have a lot to be grateful for," he said seriously. "We still have each other."

Katie nodded against his chest, trying very hard not to think about the framed picture of Fred that was hanging on the mantelpiece, and which none of them had touched.

Then, from out of nowhere, a snowball hit the back of her head. Two seconds later, one smashed Lee in the face, the pieces breaking apart and disappearing into the air. Letting out shouts of indignation, the pair whirled around to find George smirking from where he now stood on the floor.

"Classy, George," Katie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "And what was that, exactly?"

He grinned. "The No Mess, No Stress Snowball," he replied. "Lee's conceptualization, actually, so blame him."

"_Really_?" she said, feigning interest as she crossed the floor to examine it. "Is that an Aeration Charm, then? Let me see…"

George shrugged and handed over the box he had opened. Katie grabbed the nearest one and smashed it in his face.

"See how you like that," she scowled as George yelped and stumbled backward. "_No Mess, No Stress Snowball_…"

George somehow managed to located his wand and summon the box back to him, and continued to throw the remaining snowballs at his friend. Ron and Lee just rolled their eyes and carried back on with their work. Katie had just managed to tackle George when Angelina and Alicia burst through the door wearing winter coats and large purses.

The two girls frowned in confusion as George wriggled free from Katie's grasp, leapt to one of the windowsills and dropped another snowball on her head.

"You're worse than Peeves!" she shouted, jumping in vain attempts to snatch the box from his grasp.

George just laughed and turned the box upside down, spilling the rest of the contents all over her. Covered in dust, she collapsed to the floor and blew an exasperated sigh upward, causing some of her fringe to muss. He grinned and sat down on the windowsill, admiring his work as the particles slowly disappeared from her hair.

Turning to the other boys for an explanation, the girls were met with a shrug by Lee and a roll of the eyes from Ron. Alicia cleared her throat.

"Erm…Katie?" she asked. "You're still coming shopping with us, right?"

"Blimey, I'd almost forgotten!" Katie laughed as she leapt to her feet, brushing off the remaining bits of snow. "Just let me grab my bag…"

"Are you wearing that?" Angelina piped up rather bluntly. Katie looked down to observe herself. She'd forgotten she was in ripped jeans and a long-sleeved Pride of Portee t-shirt.

"Nope," she replied, jogging up the stairs. "Just going to throw on a jumper, be down in a mo!"

Angelina laughed, shaking her head, and reshouldered her purse. Katie tore through the small flat, threw a thick sweater over her shirt and swapped her jeans for a nicer pair. She shook her hair loose from the ponytail that held it, grabbed her coat and bag, and headed back down the stairs.

"Ready!" she called cheerfully.

Alicia smiled. "Remember to meet us at the pub at eight, won't you, boys?" she asked.

Lee nodded.

"Just us five?" George asked, joining his friend.

"Yes," Alicia replied. "Well, and Katie invited Oliver."

The redhead looked puzzled. "You did?" he asked, turning to Katie.

Her cheeks tinged unexpectedly with color. "Well yes," she said. "I mean, it's been a while since we've seen him, you know."

George shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

Angelina gave him a severe, knowing look before putting her arms over her girlfriends' shoulders and steering them toward the door.

"Okay lads, we're off," she called. "And don't be late!"

XxX

Katie, Angelina, and Alicia traveled to Muggle London to do their shopping as Alicia wanted to get her family's gifts first. Katie looked interestedly at the many gadgets she did not understand and tried not to attract too much attention to herself as attempted to understand it. Luckily, the shoppers were too focused on their own financial missions to pay much attention to her or Angelina, who was even more obviously remarking loudly on the frivolity of an eggbeater. Alicia colored as she put one back on the shelf and turned to another display.

It felt wonderfully normal to be back with the girls again. The past weeks had found Katie ducking questions from her coworkers over Oliver's absence in the newsroom and then staring at him surreptitiously at the lunch table while trying not to seem affected by his presence in front of Jacquelyn. And then, though she usually mellowed out with George and Lee, she was still in a predominately masculine environment and whenever she saw her girlfriends, it was always in the presence of one of her roommates. Shopping reminded Katie that she was still essentially feminine and very much a part of this small circle of female friendship. In this atmosphere, she surprised herself with her pleasant mood. It reminded her of Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade, and having to keep an eye out for the boys who would undoubtedly be spying.

Katie and Angelina followed Alicia into a small department store, at which point the small blonde immediately glowed with pride.

"I _did _remember where it was," she beamed. "Muggle joke shop…perfect for finding George's gift!"

The other girls laughed and began to explore the small shop. Katie had to hand it to her friend—this really was a top-rate spot for the redhead in question. In certain ways, George was as intrigued by Muggles as his father was, and he and Fred had always taken the time to learn "how the other half lived," as they termed it, especially in regard to their penchant for mischief. As Alicia was scanning the shelves and rifling through display stands, Angelina sighed.

"I've no idea what to get for George," she complained. "And I feel like it has to be extra good this year…not that everyone doesn't really need a good Christmas this year," she added hastily, checking Katie's expression.

She was perfectly benign however, and merely nodded. "But George especially," she agreed.

"Do _you _know what you're going to get him?"Ange pressed.

"Actually, yeah, I think I do," Katie smiled. She had been considering this for some time, and thought she had come up with a pretty decent idea given her budget. "I'm making it myself, though. And it's a secret, so don't ask me."

Angelina visibly grimaced. "If you're making his gift, I _really _have to make sure to get him something nice to make up for it."

Katie huffed and rolled her eyes, casually tossing an electric mint tray in her friend's direction. Angelina yelped and batted it away.

By the end of the day and another trip to Diagon Alley later, Katie had managed to select what she thought were pretty decent gifts. A state-of-the-art designer Quaffle for Michael, a complete set of essential herbs for her mother, a subscription to _Quidditch Quarterly_ for her father and Lee, and nice chocolate boxes for Jaquelyn, Hudson, and her aunt. The only gifts that remained to be found were ones for the girls, and perhaps something for the Weasleys. George's gift was simply a matter of creation.

"My feet are killing me," Angelina complained as they neared the designated pub. "I hate Muggle shopping…why did we start with that?"

Alicia chose to ignore this. "Did everyone get done except for each other?" she asked cheerily.

"I still need to find something small for my clients," Ange sighed. "By the way, Katie, I didn't see you get Wood anything."

Katie frowned slightly, but tried to remain nonplussed. "That's because I didn't," she answered, shrugging.

"Why?" Alicia asked curiously.

"_You two_ didn't," Katie pointed out, readjusting the weight of her shopping bags and looking straight ahead down the rain-washed cobblestone lane.

"Well yes, but we're not his particular friends," Ange said slightly obnoxiously. "I'm sure he'll get something for you."

"Trust me," she said firmly as she held open the pub door for her friends. "He won't."

XxX

Dinner and drinks were pleasant, and Katie strove to be involved in all the conversations taking place, not wanting to make it obvious to Wood that she had arranged the get-together simply to have an opportunity to see him outside of the lunchroom. She was growing increasingly vexed at his refusal to be more than slightly friendly with her, and though she was nowhere near wanting the kind of attention he had said he wanted to give her, she did miss his presence in their circle of friends. Toward the end of dinner, Michael and a few of his friends from Kenmare showed up under the guise of a coincidental meeting, though Katie caught a couple of glances between her brother and Alicia that plainly showed she had told him about the gathering. Michael sat down across from his sister, shoving his way between Wood and Lee.

"Bloody mess out there, isn't it?" he asked cheerfully. "Nothing like winter in the southern United Kingdom. Hogwarts must be covered in snow by now, right?"

Alicia shuddered from where she sat by Katie. "I'll take the rain ninety-nine times out of a hundred. I nearly froze every year, even under twelve layers and my winter cloak. I'll never understand why the founders chose northern _Scotland _of all places…"

"Hey, now," Wood smiled.

"Sorry Oliver," Alicia said dismissively. "But you weren't there our sixth year. Worst winter I remember—and that was the year of the Yule Ball, too. Strapless dress out in the snow, trying to fend off that bloody Durmstrang bloke…"

"How did you end up in the snow?" George asked curiously from the other end of the table. Alicia simply colored, and Michael raised an eyebrow.

"I always feel cheated I missed out on that whole thing by a year," Wood commented lightly. "Sounded like fun."

"It wasn't," Katie said abruptly. "Anyway, you would have hated it, Ol, they canceled Quidditch."

Everyone laughed, and Oliver smiled at her which she couldn't help but return.

"I don't even remember it being that cold," Angelina pondered. "Actually, I think the whole room was pretty stuffy…"

"It would have been, with the way you and Fred were dancing," Katie said darkly, which caused the rest of the table to laugh again, and Angelina to blush.

"You know, I have to say," George interrupted. "I've always been a little put out by the fact that it was Fred who always got credit as the superior dancer…"

Angelina tossed her hair. "He _was_," she said, smiling fondly. "I'd never been that out of breath in my life…or since."

Lee gave her a look, which she ignored.

"Anyway, it's not like you were doing anything out of the ordinary," she continued to George. "Plodding along with Katie like it was the funeral march…"

"Excuse me?" he returned, feigning a look of high scandal. "I couldn't help it if my dancing partner was determined to be a prude…no offense, Katie."

She waved an arm of acceptance as the rest of the table laughed.

"I'm actually quite talented," he continued.

"He is," Katie added, grinning.

"Thank you, m'dear," George returned, nodding his head in her direction.

"Alright, I think I can judge this," Ange said coyly. She got up and headed toward the juke box, selecting a particularly lively dance song. She then crossed the floor back to George, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him toward the dance floor. "Come on, Weasley," she smirked.

George laughed, obviously surprised, but allowed himself to be dragged off. "Sorry you have to witness this, Lee!" he called.

And Angelina pulled him dangerously close to her and began to dance in her infamously scandalous manner. George met her level easily, seizing her waist and demanding to lead the high-energy demonstration. Lee huffed.

"Well I'm not going to just sit here," he stated. "Come on, Alicia." And he grabbed a surprised Alicia and led her off to join the pairs of people already on the dance floor.

Michael frowned and rolled his eyes at his sister. "You guys are still babies," he said in an off-hand way, though Katie recognized it as slight jealousy and it made her smile. He got up from the table and went to go join his mates at the bar.

It was then that Katie realized she was alone at the table with Oliver Wood, and that in some cruel perversion, every one of their friends was dancing besides the pair of them. A month ago, this wouldn't have even been a thought. Now she was trapped by the one circumstance she was sure she would never have to face. Annoyed, she wondered if Wood had foreseen this. But that thought was ridiculous.

Doing her best not to betray that she remembered the conversation that had taken place between the pair of them in a similar situation, she reached for her mug of butterbeer and quietly took a sip, averting her eyes away from the man sitting across from her.

"I won't do it, you know," Wood said, interrupting her thoughts. "So you don't have to tense up like that."

Katie, taken slightly off-guard, looked back at him. "What are you talking about?" she pretended to ask.

Oliver gave her a look. "You know," he said. "I won't dance with you, Katie, unless you ask."

Increasingly annoyed, Katie set her mug down on the table a little harder than she meant to.

"Well, I won't," she returned, turning in her seat to watch her friends, determinedly avoiding Wood's eyeline.

XxX

"Alright, I admit it," Angelina laughed, slightly winded, as George twirled her back into him. "You're quite good as well."

"_Quite_ good?" George repeated. "Come now, surely you can do better than that."

"Okay, okay…" she grinned, rolling her eyes. "Katie was definitely missing out in not taking advantage of what she had."

"That's better," he said. "Speaking of Kates…I'm surprised old Woody isn't jumping at the chance to dance with her at the moment."

Angelina frowned and looked over at their friends. "I am, too, actually_," _she said. "But you know, I think something weird's going on there. She didn't get him a Christmas present today."

"Really?" George asked, trying to keep his show of interest to a minimum. "Why?"

Angelina shrugged. "No idea. She's getting you something, though. _Making_ it, actually."

George could see that Angelina was trying to bait him into making some remark about Katie's awful handiwork, but he was actually rather pleased, and it was hard for him to keep a smile from spreading across his face.

"Interesting…" he replied. "Maybe I'll make her gift, too."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Just please don't let me be in the room when you exchange gifts. I saw you two today. I'm not sure whether it would be a love-fest or an all-out war."

George chose to ignore the hint, and simply spun her in and back out as the music slowed.

"Alright, Miss Johnson, you're now in for a real treat. Slow dance time with George Weasley."

XxX

Katie was relieved when the music finally changed and Michael headed over to cut in between Lee and Alicia. Then Lee would reclaim Angelina and George would come sit down again, and bring an end to the strained silence between herself and Wood. Or ask her to dance—that actually sounded rather nice. Katie was pleasantly awaiting this, when Michael cut in and Lee relinquished the blonde to her boyfriend congenially. Instead of heading over to Angelina, however, he crossed the floor and held out his hand to Katie.

"What do you say, Kates?" he grinned. "Fancy a dance? George has something to prove, and Ange is stubborn, so we may be here for a while."

Katie returned the smile, eager for any chance to escape Wood. "Love to."

Oliver frowned, flicking the metal of his tumbler. He watched the pairs dance for a few minutes and then headed out the door, disapparating without saying goodbye to any of them.


	39. Christmas Whisperings

As soon as the three friends reentered their small flat, Katie crossed the room and fell with a slight huff onto her bed. She kicked off her shoes carelessly, aiming them at her open closet, one of which hit George in the leg as he made his way to the kitchen. He picked up the small slip-on and looked at his friend, amused.

"Alright there, Katie?" he asked with a smirk on his face as he tossed the shoe into the closet and carried on.

"I'm fine," she said somewhat impatiently.

"What was up with 'Olly Wood tonight?" George continued, opening the biscuit jar and taking one for himself, tossing a second to Lee. "He just…disappeared."

"George, just because you understand Muggle cinema now doesn't mean you get to make that joke every five seconds," Katie snapped, a little angrily.

George just shrugged. He knew she was annoyed with him for bringing up Oliver, and that there was something going on there that he didn't know about, but for the first time in some while, he simply wasn't concerned. Angelina had let slip that Katie wasn't getting Wood anything for Christmas, but that she was working to actually hand-make something for himself. And that was all he cared about at the moment.

"It _is _a bit weird though, isn't it?" Lee joined in curiously. "He didn't even say goodbye to any of us."

"Maybe he had to leave somewhere in a hurry," Katie shrugged from where she lay on her bed. It was clear that whatever her thoughts were on the subject, she wasn't keen to discuss them. George decided not to push his luck.

"Probably," he said in a neutral tone. And then, in a more playful one, "Hey Kay, fancy a biscuit?"

And without waiting for her answer, he tossed one in her direction that landed on her forehead and then bounced off onto the bed.

A split second of anger flashed across Katie's face, but then dissolved into a grin and laughter.

"Oh fine," she said, biting off a piece. "Biscuit it is."

XxX

The following Sunday afternoon found George hurriedly wrapping his long scarf around his neck and pulling on his coat, while simultaneously trying to locate a bin of his latest Wonder Witch products he had promised for his mother. Lee had already left, heading for his parents' house for dinner, and George was about to do the same. Katie, however, was standing by the large bay window, hanging tiny ornaments on a medium-sized evergreen.

This made George laugh to himself. Despite the fact that downstairs the entire store was decked from floorboard to rafter in trees, fake snow, and tiny lights, Katie had insisted their flat had needed some Christmas cheer. So, she had dragged himself and Lee out of bed that morning in hours earlier than they had been used to keeping and out to the countryside where George had been made to chop down a live tree. Lee, who was still recovering from his cold, would be a couple more days in forgiving her for this stunt; George had been slightly annoyed at the time, but now, watching her fastidiously decorate the tree, was rather amused. This was the girl who, just a couple of days ago, had sworn she wasn't going to get wrapped up in the Christmas season. It seemed she was happier than she cared to admit.

George understood. It was going to be her first Christmas—his first Christmas—everyone's first Christmas without Fred. They ought to be steeped in gloom and dreading yuletide bliss. And maybe they would be, eventually, but George had felt buoyed up ever since that Sunday evening that his father had reaffirmed his faith in himself and his identity. He was suddenly more aware of those he still had with him, and the love and warmth they provided. And that was what the Christmas season was about celebrating, wasn't it? He couldn't be unhappy. At least not yet.

"You sure you want to stay here, Kay?" George asked, finally having located the bin and heading toward the door. "Your mum probably won't be too pleased."

Katie turned from where she was fastening a poinsettia onto a branch and scoffed. "As if I'm going home to meet _Daryl _any sooner than I have to," she said. "No, you go on, George, I'll be fine."

George cocked his head and observed his stubborn friend in an amused manner. She was wearing a faded-red Gryffindor sweater from their second year, which was probably several sizes too small for her, but that she wore nonetheless. A mismatching scarf was wound carelessly around her neck and from inattention, her hair had formed into its natural soft, unruly ringlets that so resembled her brother Michael's.

"What?" she asked, unable to restrain a curious smile.

"Nothing," George grinned. "You can always come with me, you know."

"No, I'd rather stay and finish the tree," she replied, turning back to her work. "But tell your family hi for me."

"If you say so," he said easily, and made to open the door. He paused, however, leaning against the frame and turning to look back at his friend. Her shoulders had hunched slightly and, shifting his gaze, he saw that she was holding a star that he knew Fred had nicked from a Gryffindor Christmas tree during their fifth year. His face pulled into a sad smile as Katie eventually stood on her tiptoes and attempted to reach the top of the tree. She was missing by a mile.

"Here," George laughed, setting down the bin. "I'll give tonight a miss. You'll never be able to do all of this yourself anyway."

He crossed the room and took the star from her, easily reaching the top of the tree. "Besides," he added, looking down at her grateful smile and attempting to dispel some of the poignancy. "You don't have the right eye for this kind of stuff like I do."

Katie laughed and then raised an eyebrow.

"Is that really something you want to admit to, George Weasley?" she asked as though indicting him.

He shrugged. "I'm secure with myself. Surprised you didn't know that already, love. I like your curls, by the way."

She scrunched her nose and raised her hand to head to mess them up. "You're nutters," she said.

"No," he remarked more sincerely. "I really do."

"Oh," Katie replied, smiling slightly. "Thanks."

"Welcome. Now hand me that nutcracker Lee made so I can hide it in the back."

The two friends laughed and continued to trim the tree, warm and comfortable, as the London streets ran with sleet and fog outside.

XxX

Alicia Spinnet huffed under the weight of the pile of dirty bed sheets she was now carrying to the laundry receptacle. It appeared you had more healing time as a top-level junior healer than you did on the bottom rung of seniority as a full-fledged healer. All she had been doing since she had been promoted was paperwork and laundry. _Lot_s of laundry.

She managed to hoist the pile into the bin, and then leaned against the stack and was breathing heavily when a voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.

"'Leesh!" called the voice, gleefully. Alicia jumped what felt like a foot in the air and then whipped around to find a grinning redhead in front of her.

"_George Weasley_!" she shouted angrily. "You scared me half to death. What are you doing back here, anyway? It's quarantined!"

The lanky ginger cocked his head and looked at her in a curious way that let Alicia know exactly how he was going to respond. Not in the mood to wait for theatrics, however, she beat him to the punch line.

"I know, I know," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You're George Weasley. Now what on earth could you possibly want?"

George gave her a look that told her he was deeply disappointed in her. "What, Alicia, I can't just come say hi to one of my best mates while she's working? And the real reason I'm back here is because I'm on a lunch break and the witch behind the reception desk is very obliging."

Alicia simply put her hand on her hip and glared at him. "And since when is getting out of work and unnecessary flirtation not part of the George Weasley package?"

George held his hands up in surrender and then continued. "Actually, I needed to see Angelina too but she always takes lunch with her clients, so I came here first."

"Lucky me," Alicia said sarcastically. In truth, however, she was glad to her friend. It was shaping up to be a rather long day. "So what's up, George?"

"I heard Katie's making my gift this year," he said, without missing a beat.

The blonde observed him shrewdly, looking for the signs she had been used to seeing when this certain topic came up. Either George had prepared himself for this or Alicia was overanalyzing, because he simply blinked at her.

"That's what she said," she answered slowly. "What of it?"

"Well, it got me thinking that maybe I should make everyone's gifts this year," he continued. "Don't worry, 'Leesh, yours will be extra special," he added when she gave him a look.

"I don't want any more of your love potion, George," Alicia said tiredly.

"Never," George promised, making crossing motions over his chest. "Besides, these days you aren't much in need of it."

Alicia was aware she was blushing, but she didn't draw attention to it. "So what do I have to do with this?" she asked.

"Well," he said, now with the look in his eye Alicia recognized from his Hogwarts days when he had a particularly good idea. "I know what I want to make for Kates. But I need everyone's help—including yours."

Alicia nodded. "Alright," she said. "What can I do?"

And George bent down, closing the long distance between his height and Alicia's, and began whispering into her ear. When he was finished, Alicia was genuinely touched. She had always known George had a capacity to be incredibly thoughtful, astonishing to anyone who knew him simply as 'one of the Weasley twins,' but this was one of his best ideas she had heard.

"Okay," she said, smiling. "I can bring that by tonight."

George grinned. "Great. That's perfect, 'Leesh. Thanks."

"She won't be there?"

"Nope, she's finally being trapped by her family into meeting her aunt's _lover_."

The two laughed at this, and then Ben came around the corner. He was a tall, good looking healer with dark brown hair and brown eyes, slightly higher up on the professional ladder than Alicia. He grinned at her and when he saw George, he turned in surprise.

"Alicia," he said congenially. "Who's this?"

"Oh," Alicia said quickly. "Ben, this is George Weasley. George, Ben Hammond."

Ben held out his hand. "George Weasley, eh?" he asked. "So it was your party I took Alicia's Halloween shift for?"

George looked from him to Alicia curiously, and Alicia looked away.

"Yeah," he said in a friendly manner. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Excellent," Ben returned. And then, turning to Alicia, "'Leesh, I took care of the sheets on the fourth floor for you, so you can go attend to the witch in Room 181 if you like. Bad use of bobotuber puss."

Alicia simply nodded as Ben grinned and departed, and turned to George who simply raised his eyebrows as he turned to go.

"Like I said," he called, back turned as he retreated. "No need for love potion at all."

The healer simply shook her head in a frustrated manner, and then collected her clipboard to head toward Room 181.

XxX

Across the city and in the shared cafeteria of the Ministry of Magic and the _Daily Prophet_, Katie was having lunch with Jacquelyn and, as ever, discussing Oliver Wood. He was once again at a separate table with a loud group of laughing friends from the Magical Games and Sports Department. Unable to keep her annoyance with Wood to herself, Katie had told Jacquelyn everything that had occurred between them from the night of the Halloween dance to Saturday night at the pub. Now the two girls were surreptitiously staring at the Keeper from across the busy room.

"That doesn't seem like Wood," Jaq said, scrunching her nose slightly. "At least from what I've seen of him. He always seemed so friendly and measured when he was hanging around the newsroom.

Katie rolled her eyes. "Well that's Wood for you," she said. "When it comes to winning something, he can get pretty childish. Throwing tantrums all the time, but without the follow through to do anything about it."

Jaq shrugged. It was obvious she was still rooting for Oliver. "He _did _try to do something about it, though," she countered. "Why didn't you ask him to dance?"

Her friend frowned. "Because," she said exaggeratedly. "It was so bloody obvious that he was expecting it. And I…didn't want to give in," she ended somewhat deflatedly.

Jaq raised an eyebrow. "So it's just Oliver being childish, then?" she queried.

Katie simply scowled at her.

"Isn't there any chance you can see this as flattering?" Jacquelyn continued to press. "I mean, you've essentially made a grown man befuddled."

"Befuddled?" Katie challenged comically, and the two girls laughed.

A few seconds later, however, their attention was diverted by a man and woman crossing the room. Katie's eyes grew wide as she hissed, "That's my aunt!"

Elizabeth was being accompanied by a tall, dark, good-looking man; both were grinning widely. Jacquelyn turned to her friend.

"Is that the famous Daryl?" she whispered. "He's _scrumptious_!"

"He is," Katie echoed, somewhat surprised. "But how on earth did they know where to find me…?"

She trailed off as she realized her aunt's gaze was not directed on her but rather, surprisingly, on Oliver. She took Daryl's hand and the two headed over to where Wood was now waving in a friendly manner.

"Doesn't look like it's you they were coming to see, love," Jaq smiled.

Katie's mouth opened a little. Of course. That was right—Wood had run into Daryl plenty of times at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. And Elizabeth, as the adoring girlfriend, was obviously in tow frequently. It looked as though the two had been in this morning, spotted Oliver on their way out, and went to say hello. She felt an unreasonable annoyance as her former captain greeted them warmly and the three laughed together. Of course Wood could be charming when he chose—he'd certainly never had issue at Hogwarts attracting a female audience; but they had never been to his ridiculous dawn practices. They didn't know what he was _really _like. And Wood had the habit of being mostly oblivious to his power over women, something that was even more maddening when Katie was now predisposed to be annoyed with him.

Of course.

He would be perfectly friendly to everyone apart from her. From her, he wanted more. And she was probably one of three females on the planet who would deny him that.

She sighed and rested her jaw on her open palm.

"He's completely perfect," Jaq said, somewhat annoyed now. "The only things he's apparently irrational about are you and Quidditch. A list of two is pretty damn good once you compare that to other men. My ex got wound up every time I tried to get him to clean the bathroom on a regular basis. I don't know what's the matter with you."

Katie gave her friend a tired look. "It's _too soon_," she said for what felt like the thousandth time, and involuntarily reached for the ring around her neck. "He's not Fred."

Jacquelyn regarded her seriously now. "Maybe that's a good thing," she said simply. "Oh, here they come—are you going to say hello?"

Katie turned to see what she meant. Surely enough, Aunt Liz and her boyfriend were now back en route to the exit, and would pass right by where she was sitting with Jaq.

"No, not now," Katie said, maneuvering so that she was mostly obscured by a pillar in the room. "I'll save that headache for tonight."


	40. Katie Bell is NOT Sick!

**A/N: So my writing totally sucked on this chapter. And it's longer than I'd anticipated but covering less. Hmm…here's to improvement next time around. As always, thanks a million for you kind & constant reviews! Happy reading.**

Slipping on her fuzzy yellow robe, Katie gripped both sides of the sink and stared at her dripping reflection in the mirror.

"You are _nod _sick," she told herself firmly through the steam. "Nod sick…nod…nodt…_NOT_ sick. There."

And then she wavered slightly.

"Nod sick," she repeated.

Except she was—absolutely was. It had been a week and a half since their cross-country Christmas tree trek had revived Lee's cold, a week since he had finally rid himself of it, and three days since Katie had first started ignoring the signs that she had caught the thing herself. There was also the fact that she was slightly hung over, which was not helping things.

Despite her protestations that she would not meet Daryl Albright and that if she had to, she would not approve, she had actually grown quite fond of her aunt's boyfriend over the past week. She had ventured into her family's home the previous Monday intent on being disagreeable and found that she could not be. Daryl was good humored, easy going, and was also very fond of white wine, which explained Katie's current state. The only problem, really, with Daryl was that he was quite fond of Oliver. They worked together a lot in the Department of Magical Games and Sports and, from what Katie could guess, had been filled in by Elizabeth about Wood's interest in her. Consequently, Daryl had been dropping hints all during dinner last night, which led to her drinking increasing amounts of wine under her brother's and father's amused gaze and her mother's disapproving one. Now, along with the cold, she was paying for it.

She refused to miss work, however. She had become somewhat of an unpredictable employee, working long hours late into the night through the summer and then taking extended breaks for psychological reasons. Having finally started abiding by a normal schedule, Katie was not about to ask Hudson for time off the last week before the Christmas holiday because of a trifling cold. And it was for that reason that she summoned the strength to stumble out the bathroom door and stare into the void of her closet for work clothes.

XxX

Since George had extended his shop hours for the Christmas season, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had seen an influx of customers like never before. This week, then, he had started opening the shop at eight o'clock instead of his usual nine o'clock hour and the result had been much the same—which probably explained why he, Ron, and Lee were having at least four people shouting at each of them at once.

"George!" his younger brother called above the din.

"I'm busy, Ron," George replied needlessly, looking up from where he had been showing a Skiving Snackbox to a rather harassed looking witch. "What's the matter?"

Ron wore a slightly triumphant grin across his freckled face. "You forgot your bowtie," he said simply. "After all that harping on about upholding a sharp image of the store…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he interrupted, waving him off. He directed the witch over to Lee at the cash register and made his way up the stairs, grimacing. The last thing in the world he liked to be was one-upped by his youngest brother. And to have it occur before it even reached nine thirty was especially unpleasant.

George reluctantly pushed open the door to the flat, intent on finding his bowtie and returning downstairs as quickly as possible, but as soon as he had found the missing article and threaded it under his shirt collar, the bathroom door opened and Katie stumbled out in a skirt and a terribly mismatched shirt. He raised an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" he questioned cautiously, attempting not to betray amusement in his tone.

"I'b _goeeg_," she insisted, leaning against the frame. "I'b just goeeg to be a liddle late…"

George actually laughed now. "Katie, get into bed," he snickered. "You've been pretending not to be sick for a week and now you're actually a walking germ factory."

"I ab nodt!" she declared fervently, summoning the energy to remove one of her shoes and throw it at him. He caught it easily and crossed the room, putting the back of his hand to her forehead.

"You're burning up," he informed her. "And your fashion sense has gone out the window."

He moved to her closet and removed a pair of pajamas, which he tossed in her direction. "Put those on," he directed. "I'll make some tea."

"Dough!" she said defiantly.

"What's that?" he asked, smirking and once again letting his eyebrows raise.

"George, I have to go to work," she pleaded. "Id's the last week before Chrisdtbas! Eberywod will hate be!"

George sighed dramatically and shook his head. "You know you really shouldn't say things like that, Kay," he said. "You've got a great body."

She scowled at him intently, but still turned on her heel and retreated to the bathroom to change.

"You're writeeg to Hudson add telling her you're holdeeg me captive!" she shouted.

"I'll tell her you're _sick_, but that's the best I can do," George called back as he put on the kettle and searched the cupboard for the rest of the Pepper Up Potion he had bought for Lee the previous week. After locating it, he mixed it in with the tea that was steeping and pulled out a spoon. A few minutes later saw Katie forced back into bed holding the mug and sipping quietly. From where he sat at the edge of the bed, George was unsure whether to take this as a sign of resentment toward him or relief.

It appeared to be the latter, however, as she finally set down the cup and settled back into the sheets.

"I feel terrible," she moaned quietly. George smiled.

"I know," he answered.

"How cub you're dot sick?"

He shrugged. "My body is a finely-tuned instrument of perfection, love," he answered. "I never get sick."

Katie rolled her eyes, but couldn't help returning the grin he let spread across his face. She reached for his hand, and he let her take it and she pressed it in hers.

"Come here," she said quietly, pulling him towards her. And then she placed a small, very soft kiss barely on the corner of his mouth and cheek, and lingered there for a moment as though unsure of what she meant to do. She finally released him however, a confident smile on her face.

For the first time since the incident, George was sincerely grateful he only had one ear and that it was conveniently positioned away from her, because he was sure it was on fire.

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

"Right," he replied, moving his hand to the back of his neck and standing up suddenly. "Well."

And moving to retrieve the mug from her nightstand, he accidentally moved too close and hit his shin on the bed frame.

"Damn it!" he shouted loudly, and then retracted as she laughed. "Erm…right…well, I ought to be going. Shop to run, you know."

He backed away uncertainly, fumbling for the door handle.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"Taking that mug with you?"

"Nope."

He bent down and set it on the floor, and then disappeared as quickly as possible.

XxX

Alicia sighed and moved the stack of release forms she had once again been told to stamp to the side of the reception desk and propped her chin up with her palm. She gazed out idly at the sleet that was quickly turning to snow in the gray, drizzly afternoon. It hadn't even reached noon yet, and she was already considering it a long day. She hated working reception.

And yet, she reminded herself, it _was _her last day—for the year, at least, barring a couple of shifts she had been obliged to pick up between Christmas and the New Year. Having only taken two vacation days since she had come back to work in the summer, Alicia had everything in order for a long, relaxing Christmas holiday. She was going skiing in Switzerland with her parents; though they had never quite understood what their daughter was going through, they knew it had been traumatic and wanted to get her out of the country and have a peaceful end to the year. Overall, Alicia was looking forward to it. Despite the fact that her friends had never understood her penchant for "paying loads of money to slide down a hill on pieces of wood," as Fred had once termed it, she enjoyed skiing and was eagerly anticipating spending the extra time with her parents. At the same time, however, she dreaded the holiday.

She shifted her gaze slightly to the few flakes that were now accumulating on the cold metal of the street signs outside. The winter always reminded her of Fred. He and George had seemed to come alive to an extra degree in the cold weather—perhaps Fred most especially. And he had always made a point of making sure Alicia was doused head to toe with snow before they were allowed to enter the greenhouses for Herbology. She missed him especially now, even though she felt little right to such feelings considering that George and Katie seemed to be more or less coping well. Perhaps things would hit them a bit closer to Christmas, but even then they would be with each other and surrounded with family—Alicia had seen the guest list for Christmas at the Burrow that year. She hadn't been aware that that many people could fit under the tiny roof. But she would be away in another country, completely removed from those who truly understood how she was feeling. She would be indulging another side of her life entirely.

Alicia was interrupted from her musings by a voice behind her.

"Better get a move on, Spinnet, those release forms won't stamp themselves."

She turned to find a grinning Ben behind her. She smiled back. Ben Hammond was tall with dark hair just bordering on the description of shaggy, with clear light blue eyes that reminded Alicia of summer weather. And, as he was currently smiling at her, she had the chance to observe how particularly white his teeth were. He was very good looking, on top of being an intelligent and talented healer. And, given the competition inherent among Healers of her year, he was her closest friend at St. Mungo's.

She frowned, giving the stack of forms a disgruntled look as she pulled them back toward her.

"They _could_," she said ruefully. "If Pirowitz would ever authorize me to use a simple charm…"

"Yes, but then where would be the fun?" he countered as he leaned against the desk to face her. "I hear you're leaving us today, Spinnet, is that right?"

Alicia nodded. "For a couple of weeks, yeah. I'm going on skiing holiday with my parents."

He laughed. "That's right—I always seem to forget your parents are Muggles."

She raised an eyebrow. "So you know what skiing is, then?" she queried.

"'Course," Ben replied easily. "I grew up in Muggle London. The mysteries of the 'Other' aren't hidden from me."

She smiled appreciatively.

"When do you leave?" he asked.

"In the morning."

He nodded, and then dropped his eyes for a moment before meeting hers again. "I don't suppose you'd fancy going for a Christmas drink with me tonight, then? Before you leave? A few of us were going to meet at that pub down the street…"

Quite taken aback, Alicia was barely able to shake her head. "I'm sorry, Ben, I'm—"

"Seeing someone?" he guessed.

"Well…yes, but what I was going to say is I'm already meeting with some friends tonight. We're exchanging gifts before the holiday, and since I'm leaving tomorrow…"

"Right," he said good naturedly. And then, "But you _are _seeing someone."

She colored and looked down at the papers. "Yes."

Ben nodded, seeming to muse over this. "Is it serious?" he asked, a hopeful smile still pulling at his lips.

His target of interest hesitated. "No, not really," she finally answered. "Not yet."

He looked at her appraisingly, and then smiled. "Good," he answered in a softer tone. "Think about joining us tonight anyway, alright? We'll be at the pub around eight."

Alicia barely had time to register the fact that she had lied fairly blatantly, and without really understanding the reason, when Ben Hammond disappeared around a corner and Michael Bell came striding through the door. He was grinning from ear to ear, his curly mop of hair windswept and his broom over one shoulder. He had clearly come straight from Quidditch practice.

"Michael, put that down!" she shouted fretfully as he nearly walloped a witch standing in the waiting room with the Nimbus 2002. "You're going to hurt someone!"

Michael barely seemed to hear her. "It's a hospital, isn't it?" he said brusquely. "Anyway, 'Leesh, you'll never believe it…WE'RE GOING TO THE PLAYOFFS! For the British and Irish League Cup! The Tornadoes went down to the Wanderers, who have a terrible record anyway, and we've won for the division! It's going to be us versus Puddlemere day after Boxing Day, can you believe it?"

He nearly lifted her off her feet from over the desk in a crushing hug. Alicia gasped as the sharp edge of the desk impressed itself into her hip, but couldn't help grinning back at her boyfriend who seemed unable to control himself.

"Michael, that's fantastic!" she said enthusiastically. "I'm going to have to see if my parents wouldn't mind my missing one day of vacation…and against Puddlemere too! Oliver's team!"

Michael stopped for a moment and then laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right…Well, Wood's going to have to pray hard if he wants to beat us this year…just think of it, this could put us in the running for the World Cup!"

Alicia grinned back at him, attempting to somehow alleviate the slight she had made about him just moments before.

"Come out with me tonight, 'Leesh, to celebrate?" he pressed eagerly, his brown eyes shining in anticipation.

Her face fell. "Michael, you know I can't," she said. "In the first place, I have to pack. And secondly, I'm going over to George's tonight to say goodbye to everyone and exchange before the holiday—Angelina's meeting us all there."

He nodded, and then thought for a second. "Well you know," he said conspiratorially. "Word on the street is that Kates has gotten herself a nasty cold. I could always meet you there under the pretense of being a decent brother, and then we could go out after…?"

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Pretense?" she asked. "And where did you hear that Katie was sick? Is it bad?"

He shrugged. "Apparently," he answered. "Anyway, I went to try and find her at work to tell her the news, and her boss said she'd had an owl from someone saying she was pretty sick. And for the record, I _do _care that she's ill—and as soon as I ensure she's not dying, I'll care even more about taking you out for a celebratory dinner and then having a goodbye shag before Christmas."

"Would you keep your voice down?" she snapped, irritated, as an older woman in the waiting room looked up in annoyance. "You don't always have to be crass."

Noting the surprised look on his face, she glossed over her outburst. "Anyway, fine, meet me there around seven. But you know, I'm getting tired of all this sneaking around and 'accidental' meetings…"

Michael shrugged his shoulders. "Your decision, love, not mine. I wanted to tell her from the start. Anyway, I ought to get back….the lads and I are going out to buy new broomsticks…Nimbus 2003!"

Alicia raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were short on gold at the moment," she stated warily. "Is that really a good investment?"

"Yeah, well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're playing for the Cup! And besides, I've already gotten your gift, and it's a pretty good one if I do say so myself. So what are you worried for?"

The young healer just laughed and shook her head. "Fine, fine," she said. "Now get out of here before you scare off the other half of the hospital."

He grinned again and kissed her cheek before turning to head out. Halfway to the door, however, he paused.

"Say, wait a second," he said, turning around. "Who was that bloke I saw you with when I walked in? Haven't seen him around here before…"

Alicia unconsciously bit her lip. "That's Ben," she said simply.

"Ben," Michael repeated, nodding his head. "And is Ben someone I ought to be concerned about?"

He grinned at her in a way that let her know he did not in fact take the supposed threat seriously at all.

"No," she said in a pointedly playful way. "Now shoo."

"Yes'm," he replied cheekily, saluting her on the way out. "See you tonight, Miss Spinnet! Wear something charming, please!"

She simply shook her head, returning to the stack of release forms. She couldn't help but smirk, though she felt an uncomfortable pang of guilt deep in her stomach.

XxX

By four o'clock that afternoon, George was so worn out from manning the shop that he was barely conscious of the fact that Lee had been trying to get his attention for half a minute.

"George!" Lee shouted at his friend, who was now rearranging a display of Pygmy Puffs that an overly eager eight-year-old had knocked down a few moments before. "_George_! Did you lose your hearing as well as your ear?"

At this insult, the shop owner had his attention caught. "_What_?" he nearly snapped back. His courtesy and charm was now reserved only for the most liberally-spending of customers, and Lee's way of addressing him wasn't particularly welcome at the moment.

The dreadlocked wizard had a small child under each arm, and both appeared to be fighting over a lime-green Pygmy Puff. One of them was the eight-year-old in question whom George had been cleaning up after.

"You have _got_ to start thinking about hiring another sales clerk," Lee said seriously. "This is too much for just you, Ron, and I to handle."

He sighed in response. "Well, we've got Ginny coming home tomorrow and she's already agreed to help out," he pointed out wearily.

"Yes, and then she'll be gone again after the holiday break," his friend countered. "I'm talking about someone permanent. I know you don't like to think about having a stranger work here, George, but if you're seriously thinking about opening up a Hogsmeade location next month, it should start getting on your radar."

He gave him a pointed look and George acquiesced, snatching the Pygmy Puff from the quarreling children and completing the display. "Fine," he replied. "I'll put an advert in the _Daily Prophet_. Let me just go ask Kates who's in charge of classifieds. I probably ought to check on her anyway, it's been a while…"

"Praise the Lord!" Lee shouted as George turned to head up the stairs and the mother of the children he had in tow came to collect her offspring. She looked distinctly angry and began lecturing him as to the propriety of disciplining other people's children. George heard a few seconds of Lee's rebuttal before a softer voice stopped him as he was halfway up the stairs.

"George?" it called questioningly.

He turned. It was, inexplicably, the cute blonde girl from the Quidditch match two months ago.

He raised an eyebrow. "Hi," he said stupidly, unable to think of anything else to say to someone he had never spoken to, but had observed for half a sporting event.

She laughed. "Your friend Lee told me your name," she explained. "Don't worry, I'm not completely mental."

George smirked back at her now. "Didn't think you were," he answered. He was about to refer her to Ron, but then decided against it, descending back down the stairs and approaching her. "So…can I help you with something?"

The girl grinned, and glanced around slightly uncomfortably. "Well, I'm looking for something for my niece…she's four."

He nodded, pretending to muse deeply over the subject. "Alright…" he said in a mock-pretentious manner. "Well, that will rule out the love potions and the fake vomit, I'm assuming?"

She laughed again. "Yes, I think that would be wisest…"

"Alright then. Age-appropriate material, let's see…"

George led her to the display of pygmy puffs he had so recently left, and spent a few minutes showing off the distinct features of the creature without restraining his impulse to flirt with the unknown young witch. She seemed perfectly receptive to his advances and when she had finally selected a small, hot pink puff, she introduced herself properly.

"I'm Magda, by the way," she said, smiling up at him in a pleasing manner. "Magda Perkins."

"Smashing to meet you, Magda Perkins," George replied, taking her by the elbow and directing her to the cash register. "And if you'll allow me, I'd like to now direct you to the cash register and relieve you of some of that gold I'm assume you're carrying."

Magda rolled her eyes in a playful way, but tailed George closely.

"You certainly know how to charm a girl," she remarked sarcastically as they made it to the counter and George had taken his place behind the till.

"So I've been told," he replied, and then told her the sum. Magda pulled out her purse and withdrew the amount, but stopped as she appeared to notice something behind George. He turned around to follow her eye line.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "But is that your family?"

She was pointing at a photograph of the Weasleys taken about a year and a half ago during the summer, taped up on the wall in the corner. It had been the only week all nine of them had been together, for Bill's wedding. George felt his stomach involuntarily tighten as he braced for the question about Fred. To his surprise, however, it didn't come.

"Is that your mum? The ginger woman?"

George laughed in spite of himself. "Actually, we're all gingers if you hadn't noticed…but yes, the ginger woman is my mother. Assuming, of course, you're not referring to my younger sister who is currently seventeen."

Magda laughed. "No, I'm not…listen…"

She looked up at him in a way that let George know what she wanted to ask.

"I'd love to," he answered preemptively.

She looked surprised. "Sorry?"

"I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime," he expounded. "That _was _what you were going to ask, yes?"

Magda shook her head, smiling. "Very impressive," she said, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a quill. "Alright, give me your hand. I'll write my address and you can owl me when you like."

George obliged, and soon had the matter done. He then handed over the receipt and the Pygmy Puff and was on the verge of formulating some clever manner of saying goodbye, when she stopped him by laughing slightly and looking back at the photograph.

"What?" he inquired, oddly curious now.

"It's nothing, just…" she paused and then shook her head again. "You know, Lee invited me to your Halloween party to meet you, and this girl at the door told me it was because you thought I looked like your mum and wanted to know if we were related. Yet, clearly…" Magda gestured toward the photograph in an amused way.

"Really?" George asked genuinely confused.

"Yeah, seemed so odd at the time, but now it's obvious, isn't it?"

"What?"

"She wanted to keep you to herself," Magda grinned.

George frowned slightly, inwardly searching the index of girls he had spoken to that night and trying to identify which was most likely to ward away competition. Remembering how he had spent the evening, he decided it must have been Parvati.

"Tall girl, long black hair?" he asked knowingly.

"No," Magda mused. "She was actually pretty short. Short brown hair, too. Dressed as some sort of fairy."

George instantly felt a red-hot flame shoot through his body, flipping his stomach over. _It couldn't be…and yet, it _had _to be…There was only one person he knew who answered that description_.

"You alright?" Magda questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he answered, still feeling slightly dazed. "Great, actually. Really great."

She grinned. "Good," she replied. "So I'll hear from you soon?"

"Sure," George answered dismissively, without the least intention of following through on that statement. "You have a happy Christmas, alright?"

"You too!" And with that, and one last departing smile, she disappeared through the front door, letting a cold burst of air in behind her.

"Georgie!" A few meters off, Lee saluted him, a broad grin on his face. George responded likewise, for entirely different reasons.


	41. Angelina's Secret

**A/N: This chapter wasn't meant to be this long, but I felt I couldn't leave you without some sort of resolution to the cliffhanger I left you with last time. So you're welcome! And stay tuned…more resolution coming later. P.S. SushiLuvver, your constant reviews are wonderful and I'm sorry about your boy trouble. They can be really awful and unpredictable sometimes. Here's to hoping you find your George.**

Katie propped herself up on her elbow to better observe the ClayMation adaptation of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," which was currently playing on the television. George had somehow managed to tap into a Muggle satellite signal a couple of days previously, and Katie had been watching Christmas specials since the early afternoon. Said redhead now walked through the door to the flat.

"George," she said matter-of-factly. "How is it, do you think, that Muggles come to believe in Father Christmas when they don't believe in magic?"

George paused and observed her, putting his hands into his trouser pockets.

"I see you've taken that Pepper-Up Potion that I gave you quite liberally," he commented, a slight smirk on his face.

She frowned and sat up higher so that she could catch her reflection in the mirror across the room. She was, indeed, still steaming from the ears.

"Very funny," she returned shortly.

"Yes, well, at least I can understand you now," he grinned, making his way over to their small kitchen to start bringing out supplies to make dinner. "That's a blessed relief."

She gave him a look even though his back was turned. After this venting of her feelings was accomplished, she continued.

"Really, though," she pressed. "How do they rationalize it?"

"In case you've forgotten, Kay," George replied, turning around to again face her. "Father Christmas isn't _real_. So it doesn't much matter, does it?"

Katie shrugged and turned back to her movie, musing. "Still, though," she said, unwilling to give the subject up. "It would be nice if he was, wouldn't it? That Nicolas Flamel—the one who took the Elixir of Life—he might have done it. He had all that spare time, anyway. And he could have used a Time Turner from the Ministry for the one night bit."

George just shook his head in what he clearly intended to be an exasperated manner, but he was obviously amused by the subject. Katie knew she was playing her 'adorable but ignorant card,' but she didn't much care—she was sick, she could behave however she liked, couldn't she?

"I think he was using that spare time to do, you know, alchemy stuff," her friend returned. "Like turning metal into gold and all that."

Katie huffed. "Well, I think the world would be better served by free gifts once a year, rather than making one man extremely wealthy."

"He had a wife," George pointed out.

"Well, that's probably why she married him," she quipped lightly.

"Can't argue with that."

"How was your day, anyway?" She observed him suspiciously. He was looking rather cheerful for the 10-hour day he had just had. Lately, George had been so run down after work he would scarcely bother to change out of his clothes before he fell into bed.

"Good," he replied vaguely, obviously unaware of the scrutiny he was receiving from his friend. He was chopping vegetables at the moment.

"Why?" she asked accusatorily. At this tone, he looked up and seemed unaware of how to answer. She was about to press him further when Lee joined them.

"I'm afraid there's going to be a slight change of plans," he said immediately after walking through the open door. "Ange wants to go out to dinner instead—with me—to _talk_."

Katie raised her eyebrows, her attention claimed by the tone of his last word. "Have you two had a row?" she questioned curiously.

Lee turned, apparently only just observing her.

"Oh hello, gorgeous," he said saucily. "Fantastic bedhead."

She reached up unconsciously to try and smooth the unruly peaks and horns her hair had formed during the day.

"No, really," she pressed on. "Have you?" George now looked up curiously as well. Lee looked cornered.

"Might have done," he said in a rushed voice. "Anyway, it's _her_ thing, not mine, so she'd better be doing some kissing up tonight is all I have to say."

Katie looked from one roommate to another and frowned. "The two of you are being very aloof and suspicious today," she stated. "If I was inclined to think these two things were related, I'd say George had shagged Angelina."

"_What_?" they both shouted at the same time, and then looked at one another. Katie grinned at this.

"I'm only kidding," she rushed on. "It's just George being so unusually coy about actually having a good day for once, and then you being upset, Lee."

"Ah," Lee laughed knowingly. "No, George is feeling good for an entirely different reason—still _girl _related, though."

Katie felt the familiar sensation of unwarranted annoyance rise in her stomach. "What?" she asked, turning to the redhead in the kitchen. "Again? And during work, too? That's just _disgust_—"

George backed up comically with his hands raised, while Lee laughed aloud. "No, no, none of that in the workplace," he said quickly. "At least, not yet. No, George just got a visit from the Ghost of…er…Halloween Past."

"_Parvati_?" she shouted disbelievingly.

"Calm down, Kates, you're ill. You don't need the extra exertion, I know," Lee continued. "No, not Parvati…a Magda Perkins, who was ogling George all during that Quidditch match a couple of months ago. She was supposed to show up to the Halloween party, actually, I don't know what happened there…"

He trailed off, and Katie blushed herself into a deep look of consciousness. Turning her face aside, she sincerely hoped neither of the boys were looking at her, and if they were, that they were attributing the redness to her illness. _That girl had shown up_? _And talked to George? What could she have said? Did she mention—could she possibly have mentioned—their interaction at the door? _She chanced a quick look at George. He looked amused, but she wasn't entirely certain if it was for the reason she dreaded, or if he was just enjoying the remembrance of the interaction. She had to know.

"So you, er, talked to her then, did you?" she asked, trying desperately to sound casually unconcerned.

"Yes I did," he returned in the same manner. It might have been her imagination, but it looked as though he was regarding her with a knowing look. "But as to what went on, you can forget it, I'm keeping _mum_."

Oh, God. So he did know then. Typical George, to tease her with a stupid pun. She tried her best to appear unrattled, and simply smoothed the comforter and sipped some more of her Pepper-Up Potion. She felt additional steam escape her ears. _He could only find it amusing, right? There was nothing to read into there, surely…that had been Charlie's reaction, anyway, and she'd always thought the two were quite similar…_

"Anyway," Lee continued, failing to notice the interaction between his roommates. "I guess I'd better _dress up_. Ange always wants to go to these fancy places…"

"Hold on now," George stopped him, abandoning his games with Katie. "You're saying it's just going to be me and Kates and Alicia tonight, then?"

"Well, no," Lee replied. "I mean, for dinner, yes—but we'll still do gift exchanging and all that together, and chat for a bit."

"You realize we've had this planned for a week now?" George continued. "I bought groceries for it."

He just shrugged guiltily. "Hey, I'd rather stay myself…take it up with Ange. Actually, you may not want to do that," he added with a swift glance in Katie's direction. He obviously hadn't meant to catch her eye, because when he did, he quickly retracted.

She instantly perked up. "_What, _Lee?" she demanded in a more sober tone. She had a strange feeling that whatever their disagreement had been about, she had been involved.

"Nothing," he said perhaps too quickly. "I was just thinking that it might be good, anyway, you being sick and all."

"Right," she replied, perfectly unconvinced. He disappeared, however, off to change.

XxX

Angelina Johnson sat on the edge of her day bed, staring intently at the floor. She had just hired someone to lay hardwood panels in her room, but she was now wondering vaguely if she would miss the feeling of the old lavender carpet under her bare feet in the mornings. It was not the absence of the old flooring, however, that was keeping her from standing up. It was another thought entirely—and one far worse. She had been wrong.

As much as she would have liked to escape the fact, there had really been no excuse for her to tell Lee what she had told him. That was, unless you counted drunkenness as a reason. When they had gone out two days ago, Angelina had drunk far too much wine, and when they came home and lay together in her bed, this worked against her. Alicia was off shopping for her upcoming ski trip and Lee had really been particularly sweet that evening, so when he asked her why she looked so far away, she had told him the one thing she had sworn she would never tell anyone.

"I used to be a little bit in love with Fred Weasley."

And then the words had just hung there, like flakes in a snow flurry when the world was on pause. She could hear a faint ringing in her ears. Lee had said nothing—at least not at first.

She wondered if he had known, or at least ever suspected. He claimed to have been in love with her since the age of eleven, so surely something must have been apparent even if he did not know the particulars. In his silence, she had quietly filled him in on these.

It had started slowly enough. It was the beginning of their sixth year at Hogwarts, and everything about the place felt different. Quidditch had been cancelled—a huge blow to their set of friends—but it had been replaced with the TriWizard Tournament, which promised excitement at every turn. It brought with it an onslaught of new students, however, and classes were overrun and new friends and crushes were made, and jealousies were formed. They had all adapted easily, however, except for Katie.

Her family had been in a huge row over whether or not her grandfather Artemus was starting to need full-time care after living on his own for more than fifteen years for most of the summer. Add to that the fact that Katie had gotten caught out with the twins (which her father had read as "Fred") way past her curfew and was now being closely monitored by her father, and she was more than a little stressed. She was being pulled between her aunt and her mother's differing opinions, and her father was not so subtly asking about the extent of her relationship with the Weasley twin at every available opportunity. Angelina had seen the letters she had tried to hide, and her frustration levels which she strove to conceal became obvious. By early October, she had taken her frustration out on Fred and the two were having full-out rows almost every other day.

The day Angelina had put her name into the goblet of fire, Katie accused Fred of making a play for one of the Beauxbatons girls for what must have been the tenth time that week and he had lost it, telling her not to come talk to him until she could prove she wasn't completely mad. Katie had stomped off to the Quidditch pitch to vent her anger and George, ever Fred's one-man clean up crew, had gone after her. That night after Lee and Alicia had gone to bed, Fred came and sought Angelina out. She had been sitting by the fire studying for her arithmancy exam scheduled for the following day.

"I hope you know I'm rooting for you for Hogwarts champion," he had said with a grin after sidling up next to her. "Given that Diggory is the most likely competition, I know that's not saying much, but there it is."

"Nice to see you've come around to the rational way of thinking," she had replied without looking up from her book. It was just Fred, after all. She figured he was feeling reckless after his fight with Katie and was looking to do something stupid. His senses must have been really impaired because he knew she would never go along with his little plans and pranks.

"No, I mean it," he said seriously. This was what had surprised her, and what made her look up from her book. He was regarding her in a thoughtful manner, as though he had never really taken the time to see her before. "You're the only one who hasn't seemed to lose their head over all of this."

She had paused. "Well, given that you and George were sporting full beard earlier this week, that's not saying much—"

"But there it is," he finished with a grin.

"There it is," she had echoed.

He looked at her a moment longer, and then stood up, extending his hand to her. They had gone down to the kitchens, eaten pie, and talked for what felt like hours. From that moment on, she knew she had fallen for Fred Weasley.

Angelina had never said anything, however. She knew how it would be received. She knew, along with the rest of their friends, that he and Katie were meant to be together and that there wasn't possibly another person for either of them. She also knew her reluctant feelings for Lee were growing; they were always waxing and then waning again, but they had become harder to deny. She knew it was wrong. She knew it—but she felt it.

As Fred and Katie's relationship began to deteriorate further, he took to coming to see her more often. They talked about Katie, of course, but only as an idle complaint he would throw out and which she felt was her duty as a friend to dismiss. He told her about the late-night snogs he had been having with forgettable girls, and which he instantly regretted afterward. And more than anything, he praised her for her levelheadedness and started asking about her own love life. When he teased her about Lee, she thought she could almost sense an ulterior motive—was he gauging if her feelings were claimed? One night, frustrated with the double role of supportive friend and secret admirer, she had sat close to him on the couch by the fire and placed his arm around her shoulders and cuddled into him. He seemed surprised, but he never pushed her away.

This became frequent. They were always together when their friends were away. Then December came and he and Katie broke up for good. She waited with baited breath until the night he had asked her to the Yule Ball. Alicia, Lee, George—everyone was upset with her, but she could not repent her decision, and the Yule Ball couldn't come quickly enough. Katie unexpectedly went home and Lee rebounded and found a Beauxbatons girl for a date, and Alicia and George forgave her, presumably because they thought it was part of a plot to make Lee jealous. In a way, this was an added bonus, but it was by no means her intention.

The day before the ball, Fred took her to Hogsmeade to go shopping for a dress. They had stayed out all night, flirting and holding hands. It was thrilling, the secret of it all, and knowing that their friends would hate them forever if they knew. Then, at midnight on the ice rink, he had kissed her. It surprised both of them, but once it had happened, there wasn't any going back. They snogged until morning out in the icy air, and Angelina had slept late into the afternoon the day of the ball.

When she woke up, Katie was back. She was horrified, thinking somehow someone had told her what had happened. But it was impossible, she and Fred had been entirely alone, and it turned out George had convinced Katie to come back and abandoned his own date in order to take her. Out of guilt, Angelina had earnestly praised George to the skies for this act of gallantry and told Katie again and again just what a good bloke he was. This had unintentionally made Alicia cry, knowing her Durmstrang date would never measure up to her long-time crush. It had been a heavily emotional day, something Angelina had never dealt with all that well.

Salvation came that night however, and three-quarters of the evening was perfect. She and Fred had made everyone stare with their outrageous dancing, and she had managed to pull him away twice for another kissing session. He was distracted, however. Katie's coming back had unnerved him and she knew he was watching her out of the corner of his eye for most of the evening. In her sadness, she observed Lee and his date, wondering if it would have been better if she had just gone with him.

At the end of the evening, he took her aside and said very seriously, "I'm sorry, Angie, I can't do this." It was a statement, not a question, and Angelina knew all too well the truth of it.

"I know," she had said quietly.

And then she had retreated, pulling herself together and endeavoring to be the mother hen she always was. She gathered George and led him out with her, made a couple of comments about Lee, and then went to bed. She had cried most of that night—something Angelina Johnson never did.

It was at this point that Angelina had stopped in her narrative to gauge Lee's reaction. He was staring stone-faced at the wall.

"Lee?" she had prompted quietly.

After a pause, he finally spoke. "Was that the only time?" he asked in a low voice.

"No."

That summer, the attraction had been revived. Katie's brother had been sent off on a mission and her family had gone under the radar for a time. Angelina, on the other hand, was often at Order headquarters with her parents, having asked to come along to see the twins. When George and the other Weasleys were off somewhere in that dank and drafty house, she and Fred were snogging repeatedly. It stopped once the school year began, but their last year at Hogwarts had been punctuated with two lapses—two lapses that they had never spoken about again.

Lee was now completely unreadable, apparently lost in his own thoughts. He actually took her by surprise when he spoke next.

"And did you ever…?"

He trailed off, but Angelina knew what he meant to ask.

"Yes," she said honestly. "Just once. Before the twins left school. It all happened in a total of eight minutes and we both regretted it immediately afterward and never talked about it again, but it happened."

"And you were, apparently, 'a little bit in love with him?'" he asked, a very small note of contempt in his voice.

"I was," she answered hollowly, now joining him in staring despondently at the wall. "And tonight, standing under the snow, I thought of that night at Hogsmeade—the first time we kissed. I know it's wrong, I know it's awful, but I did. And I just can't believe he's not here now. There's never going to be another Christmas with him for us. And when you asked me what was wrong, I just…"

"Why did you tell me this?" he suddenly snapped. Anger was an unusual characteristic for Lee, and it made Angelina slightly startled. "I didn't need to know. I wasn't even your bloody boyfriend at this point, was I? So why would you tell me that? So now every time I see you I can picture the two of you together? You with my _best friend_? That's just great, Ange, thank you for that…I suppose Katie doesn't know, you haven't gone that far? You haven't been that depraved?"

She was completely at a loss for words. "Of course not," she stammered out once she found her voice. "I would never—"

"Good," he said shortly. "I'm glad to know you have respect for someone, at least."

"It would kill her," Ange had said seriously.

"Yes, I think it might," Lee agreed, standing up now. She moved to stop him, but he was already heading toward the door. "It's Christmas. We have enough to deal with without dragging up pointless regrets from the past."

"_Lee_," she had pleaded.

He had just shaken his head. "You know, Ange, some things are a secret for a reason." And with one last long, penetrating look, he headed out the door.

And Angelina now knew he was right. But she couldn't unsay it, and she couldn't agree that her past with Fred had been a matter of regret. It was wrong, that she knew, but she couldn't regret it. And now she sat here on her bed, trying to formulate what she could say that night to save her relationship with Lee. She loved him, really. She always had. And she should have never unloaded her guilt and her sadness on him. She just had to convince him that she knew that. Unfortunately for Angelina, apologies had never been her strong suit. Taking a deep breath, she flicked the tiny braid hanging in front of her face to the back of her head and stood up.

The floor felt cold underneath her bare feet.

XxX

More than she had ever been before, Alicia was annoyed with Michael Bell. When she had walked into the flat, he had been seated by his sister's sickbed and attempting to shove unwanted spoonfuls of soup into Katie's tightly pursed lips. As soon as she had entered, however, he immediately abandoned this pursuit and leapt up to greet her, spilling the hot liquid onto the bed.

"Damn it, Michael!" Katie shouted as she leapt backward. At the exact time, Michael was hugging Alicia and shouting, "Spinnet! What a surprise…didn't know you would be here!"

Rolling his eyes, an unusually somber Lee had siphoned out the soup with his wand while George helped Katie up and handed her a new pair of pajamas. The younger Bell disappeared into the bathroom and Alicia prised herself away from her boyfriend.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she snapped as Angelina came over to help her with the pile of presents in her arms. "Do you honestly want your sister to know about us?"

"You do," he pointed out, shrugging easily. "You said so this afternoon."

Alicia sighed and rolled her eyes.

"The man does have a point, 'Lic," Angelina pointed out rather unhelpfully. "You've been saying for ages now that you're tired of the secrecy."

Alicia frowned. "You look nice," she stated, observing her friend's fancy black cocktail dress. "Are you going somewhere after this?"

"Erm, well Lee and I are going to dinner," she said with a sidelong glance at her boyfriend. "At the Paper Dragon."

"What?" Alicia wailed rather sadly. "I thought we were supposed to be having dinner together."

"So did I," George threw out from across the room. "That's why I made this ruddy stew that's now all over the flat."

"Sorry, mate," Michael said easily. George just threw up his hands in indifference while Lee remained quiet.

"It will just be me and Lee gone," Ange said bracingly. "You and Kates and Michael and George will have plenty of fun, I'm sure."

"Yeah, sick me, my idiot brother, you, and the earless wonder," Katie drawled sarcastically, once again emerging from the bathroom in new jim jams. She collapsed onto her bed and moaned. "A real barrel of laughs."

"You know, I'm not _actually _earless," George pointed out in somewhat of an annoyed tone. "Just because I'm missing one doesn't mean I can't hear."

"Then turn your head around so I can talk about you some more," she shot back. This actually made Alicia laugh, and she relaxed a little.

"Well alright then, let's have some of this soup and exchange gifts," she said pleasantly as she sat down at the bar. Michael immediately joined her, placing his hand about her waist as he slid in. She glared at him and he backed away, hands in the air. Alicia now actually groaned.

To her complete surprise, Katie let out a bark of laughter. The entire room turned to stare at her.

"Oh, give it up, you two," she said, throwing her hand in the air in dismissal. "You've been at it for months, and I've known it the entire time."

"_What?_" Alicia and Michael shouted simultaneously, followed by a distant echo from Angelina and Lee.

"Oh come on!" Katie continued. "How thick do you honestly think I am? Merry Christmas—that's your bloody gift. My blessing."

Michael and Alicia turned to stare at one another, and Michael soon let out a hearty laugh. This was infectious and soon Alicia joined the entire room. After a moment, however, she noticed George quietly smirking in a corner and suddenly realized something.

"You!" she said accusatorily. "You _knew_? You knew she knew?"

"What?" George asked in a very bad impression of surprise, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I knew nothing…"

"You liar!" Alicia cried, getting up to pummel him with her fists. He laughed and easily held her at bay until Michael came and grabbed her around the waist.

"Come on, Spinny," he said affectionately. "No more of that. Now at least we can snog in public and make them regret they ever hid it from us."

This was met with a collective groan, and the gift exchanging began. Alicia was very careful not to examine any of her presents too carefully as she wanted them to be a surprise, and took pleasure in bestowing one to everyone except, of course, Michael. Besides the fact that she hadn't known this would be an acceptable gesture tonight, she was currently in a rather interesting dilemma of not actually having picked him out anything. She had wanted it to be quite good—she was certain he had gone out of his way to do something nice for her judging by his looks, and she didn't want to be shown up.

Soon, however, the exchanging was over and Angelina announced that their reservations wouldn't tolerate lateness and that she and Lee had to go. A sudden feeling of sadness descended over the party and Alicia was taken by surprise by the tight embrace Ange suddenly enveloped her with.

"Merry Christmas, 'Lic," she said in a fierce whisper. "Think of me, will you?"

And as she pulled away, Alicia was startled to see what looked like tears forming in her best friend's eyes. She chanced a quick glance at Lee who once again looked unusually quiet. She desperately wanted to ask if everything was alright between the pair of them, but within an instant, they were out the door.

If the others noticed anything, they said nothing. George wordlessly returned to the kitchen and began serving the soup. As Katie wasn't yet feeling well enough to sit at the bar, they came to her and enjoyed one another's company for the next half hour. Just as Alicia was again beginning to feel comfortable, George asked Michael if he was planning on taking Alicia out before she left in the morning.

"'Course," the curly top grinned devilishly. "Going out for drinks, aren't we, 'Leesh?"

"Ooh, where?" Katie asked brightly.

Alicia smiled at this easy acceptance of their relationship. It seemed she had been worried for nothing. "At that new bar down the street," she said excitedly.

"I've heard it's great!" her friend responded. "Jaq's been and she said it was completely chique."

"Er…about that…" Michael interrupted, causing everyone to look up. Alicia raised an eyebrow. "I'm a bit tight on funding at the moment…" he began hesitantly.

"You bought that broom, didn't you?" Alicia suddenly snapped. She saw Katie and George exchange uncomfortable looks out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored them. She herself couldn't explain why she was feeling so annoyed. He had told her that afternoon that he was planning on buying the broom.

"Er, yeah," Michael said. "I'm playing in the league championship game next week."

"It's Christmas in one week," she responded tersely.

"I know," he said defensively. " I already got your gift."

"It doesn't matter."

They sat for a few minutes in silence, their friends staring alternately at the floor and different corners of the room.

"If we could just go some place a little less expensive…"

"Fine," she said shortly. "I know a pub down the road from the hospital. Some of my friends are meeting there for a drink…"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Alicia regretted it. She looked up to take back this statement—seeing Ben was not the answer—but Michael already appeared to be on board, obviously reassured by the fact that she hadn't cancelled entirely.

"Great," he said with a grin. "George, I see you've got what looks like a girl's address on your hand. Why don't you owl her and join us?"

Alicia noticed that Katie's head jerked quickly up that this, observing George carefully. She seemed in no danger of being left alone that night, however.

"Oh, no, I don't think so," the redhead said easily, beginning to rub the ink off the back of his hand. "It was just a silly thing…I'm just going to stay here and look after Kay tonight."

Katie smiled and sank back into her pillow.

"You sure?" Michael continued. "Could be fun, and Kates can take care of herself, you know."

"Thanks a lot, drongo," Katie scowled, pushing her brother away with her foot. "Not like I'm seriously ill or anything."

"You're not!" her brother retorted. "I've seen you much worse than this! When you had dragon pox, you were actually spurting puss from your—"

"Okay, okay," Alicia said in what she felt was a calming manner. "Let's just go, okay, Michael?"

"Sure thing, babes," he said easily, shrugging and getting up from his spot on his sister's bed.

Alicia turned from where she was hugging Katie and then George, and eyed him. "You think you can pay for this one?" she asked.

He frowned. "Yeah, yeah, don't be so uptight, alright…?"

"Fine," she said, heading toward the door. Maybe she had made the right decision in meeting Ben.

"Alicia, what on earth…?"

"See you, guys!" George said loudly, rather obviously ushering them to the door. "Happy Christmas!"

XxX

"Happy Christ—"

But Michael's voice was drown out by the shutting of the heavy oak door. George let out an enormous sigh and put his back up against it. He caught Katie's eye and they both exchanged bewildered looks.

"Oh my God," she said slowly.

"I know," he returned, letting himself slide down the door.

"We're, like, the only _normal _ones."

"And who would have thought?"

"No kidding."

They continued to regard one another from where they were sitting on the bed and on the floor, respectively. George was considering something when Katie spoke again.

"George," she said in a voice he recognized as one she used when trying to appear nonchalant.

"Yes?" he replied patiently.

"Are you really not going to owl that girl?"

He smiled just slightly and showed her the back of his hand to prove it. "Nope."

She returned the smile. George gazed at her fondly, and perhaps for what was slightly too long, before he made his decision. Tonight was not the night. He wasn't sure when it would be, or if it ever would be, but he knew it wasn't this night. Let his friends flounder in the uncertainties and angst of the Christmas season. For now, he was going to enjoy this feeling of being superbly, blissfully normal.

"Want to finish that Christmas special?" he asked cheerfully, getting up from the floor.

She grinned. "Love to."

"Right." He kicked off his shoes and lifted the covers to her bed. "Budge up, then."

"George," Katie said bewilderedly. "What are you doing?"

"_Your_ Christmas tree is blocking the view from my bed," he explained playfully. "The least you could do is let me share yours."

The look of confusion on her face was really quite hilarious. "But I'b sick," she stated obviously.

"I know that. But didn't I tell you I never get sick?"

"Your body is _dot _a finely-tuned idstrument of perfecshun," she glowered, but moved over. "You're too skinny."

"Be that as it may, I'm still not the one drinking this shit," he said pleasantly, passing her the bottle of Pepper Up Potion and placing his arm around her. "Here, you really need this."


	42. Sensitivity

**A/N: Hello, friends & loyal reviewers. One more chapter for you to sink your teeth into! I have to admit that about half of this material is unneeded as far as the storyline goes, but I thought it was fun so I kept it in. More plot advancing stuff to come.**

Katie sniffed once, and then examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Other than a slightly red nose, she figured she looked alright. It was Friday—the last Friday before Christmas—and she was determined to make it into the office. It wasn't that she wanted to work, necessarily, but she did want to gather her things, apologize to her boss, and drop off Jacquelyn's Christmas gift before she went home on Sunday. Then she would spend two blissful days with her family before heading to the Weasleys' on Christmas Eve Wednesday. Katie briefly rearranged her fringe in the mirror before exiting the bathroom and returning to her point of surveillance of the shop below. Here lay her only difficulty in making it to the office—getting past George.

She had told him yesterday about her intention to go into work, and he had categorically denied her all rights to even leave her bed. She was feeling much better, she argued, but he had simply narrowed his eyes and looked at her in a way that reminded her far too much of Percy. She had informed him of this, and the argument took a different direction. She was, however, certain that George would not approve of her leaving the room until she was one-hundred percent better.

Katie opened the door to the flat and stepped out onto the staircase, peering down at the raucous activity that was taking place beneath her. The store was packed—parents and children, many now home from Hogwarts, were in every nook and cranny of the place. They would not necessarily be the problem. She shifted her gaze toward those who would be—Lee, Ron, and George, obviously, but two additional Weasley siblings were now added to the fray. Charlie and Ginny had both come home on Wednesday, and had volunteered to help out at the shop. Charlie was busy with a small boy climbing up the side of the wall in a pair of Sticky Sneakers, Ron was at the till, and Lee and George were double-teamed, trying to close a sale on a more expensive piece of merchandise. Ginny alone looked like she might be a problem. She was near the door. She was also, however, very enthusiastically trying to sell something to a skeptical looking witch in light blue robes. Katie decided to take her chances.

She tripped lightly down the stairs and then made for an aisle she had previously settled on because it had the fewest amount of people. Reaching the end, she hesitated; the door was in sight, but Ginny was not. Deciding, rather optimistically, that she must have succeeded in her salesmanship and was now leading the customer to the till, Katie walked calmly to the door, hoping not to attract much attention. Just as she reached it, however, a red-headed blur appeared, blocking her exit.

"I saw you coming," Ginny grinned. She was obviously quite proud of this surprise attack.

Katie sighed. "Hi, Ginny," she said resignedly.

"George would be pissed if he knew you were up, you know," she continued.

Katie frowned. There was nothing essentially in it for Ginny in ensuring that Katie remained indoors; this was clearly a scheme to exert authority. There was also the small provision that George would be incredibly angry with his younger sister if she were to be the means of letting his prisoner go—so much so that he might have revoked her employee privileges, something that Ginny (as a life-long hero worshipper of Fred and George) had been obsessing over since November. So the two girls began to square off, knowing a power struggle was about to begin.

"He would also be pissed if he knew you weren't sounding the alarm right this instant," Katie responded mildly. She raised one of her eyebrows just a touch.

Ginny gazed back at her without skipping a beat. "Supposing I did sound the alarm," she continued. "Who would be in more trouble—you or me?"

Not wanting to think about the answer to this, Katie continued in negotiations.

"Suppose I were to slip past the door without you seeing," she said. "No one would be in trouble."

"Unless George came up to check on you," Ginny said in a falsely sweet tone. Katie narrowed her eyes.

"What did you get me for Christmas?" the younger girl rushed on.

Katie folded her arms as a way to stall for time. In all honesty, she hadn't gotten Ginny anything for Christmas. It wasn't because she didn't like the youngest Weasley—although that sentiment was currently changing quickly—but the Weasleys were a _big family_. She thought one family gift (besides the obvious one for George) would suffice. And then it occurred to her that Ginny knew this—she was being bribed for her freedom.

"That depends on whether you step aside immediately or not," she said.

"It has to cost at least five galleons," Ginny bargained.

"Six galleons if you make sure George doesn't go upstairs for the next two hours."

Ginny mulled this over. "Alright," she stated airily. "You've got two hours."

And she stepped aside, holding the door open for Katie as she hurried out.

Katie was annoyed—she didn't particularly enjoy being one-upped by a seventeen-year-old—but at least she was out. And depending on how Ginny behaved afterward, she could always bring this incident up to George later. Well, _much _later…after she stopped sneezing, anyway.

XxX

The small urban apartment was currently scattered with open suitcases and strewn with various winter clothing. Angelina Johnson had never been a light or an efficient packer. She let out an enormous sigh as she leaned against the doorframe in her bedroom and gazed down at the single red rose that was lying on her desk. It may have seemed like a romantic gesture to anyone else, but Angelina knew it was Lee's way of saying goodbye without having to see her. He hadn't been too happy with her lately.

Try as she might, her boyfriend couldn't come to see her side of things. She couldn't blame him, really. She knew she would be mad as hell in his situation. But they had spent so much time talking over and discussing the thing—every night since the first evening at dinner—she had hoped he would be able to do something besides nod and occasionally murmur by now.

The note that came with the rose wished her a Happy Christmas, and promised to work things out when they next saw each other. That note represented as far as they had gotten, really—that they wanted to stay together and to work things out. When Angelina had told her rambling narrative about Fred that night, she hadn't thought it would be a relationship killer, but now she saw that it was threatening everything Lee had ever believed about her.

"I still just can't believe that you would do that, Ange," he had said solemnly the night before, right before he had stepped through the door for the last time. "I just didn't know you had that in you."

She knew she had been wrong; she had told him so about a hundred times since she had first introduced the topic. But all she had really done was fall in love with someone she shouldn't have—had that really been so wrong? She had paid for it endlessly since then. She'd watched Fred slip hopelessly through her fingers like mercury without being able to stop it, all while knowing she couldn't talk about it to a single person. She knew she would never obtain sympathy from anyone. She had been in her own personal hell from the moment the doomed affair had begun, and now, at Christmas, Lee seemed to think she deserved more punishment.

The thing was that Angelina had known very early on in her school days that she would one day give into Lee's romantic overtures. It was almost like she could see that part of her life in fast forward, and in that sixth year she had felt his pull stronger than ever. It was a very Angelina type of love story—straight forward, foreseeable, and neat. Fred had come out of left field in a manner no one could have predicted, and what they had shared had been theirs. It was so independent of either Lee or Katie that Angelina had thought only fleetingly of the impact on either of them. She knew how it sounded, but she also knew how it felt and it turned out to be altogether impossible for her to explain. So she would pack up the rest of her things, travel to Shropshire, spend Christmas with her family, and be left alone to her thoughts once more. There would be no Lee to save her—at least not until she sorted through these things on her own.

Angelina sighed and sank to the floor next to her suitcase. She took one of the jumpers lying on the ground and began to fold it, before burying her face in the fabric and struggling to catch her breath. The memories seemed to overpower her, and for once she saw something that she could not handle on her own. Fred was gone, and no one could help her now. Before she gave into the shudders that were threatening to turn into sobs, she was distracted by a knock on the door. Thanking the gods above for sparing her the impending humiliation, Ange took a couple of deep breaths and unfolded her long legs in order to stand up and open the door.

George stood on her porch, a nervous grin on his freckled face.

"Er…hello," he said in typical George fashion. "Lee said the backup supply of the fake wands is over here?"

Angelina rolled her eyes and stepped back to let him in. The organization here was completely transparent. Not wanting to see her, Lee had sent over his partner-in-crime to pick up the shop supplies he had stored in the apartment two days previously. And George, knowing this exactly, was attempting to display some sort of jaunty manner in order to smooth over the awkwardness of getting between a couple's argument. It was so typical of their friends' group that Angelina found it provoking.

"Run out of the fake wands then, have you?" she asked coldly. George turned from where he was looking through boxes.

"Yeah, quite fast actually," he said with his lopsided half smile in place. It was one of the few differences between the twins that Angelina could ever spot: when the pair of them knew they were in trouble (and a sort of trouble they actually cared about), Fred would blush to the roots of his hair and look off in another direction, while George would meet his accuser's eyes and do that stupid half grin, as if he hoped charm would save him. "They're a lot more popular than Lee or Ron or me expected. But now that the Hogwarts kids are back, where that sort of rudimentary thing is popular…"

"And Lee didn't want to come get them himself, did he?" Angelina interrupted, folding her arms across her chest. "Did he tell you that? And that I'd be home? Is that why you knocked, because Lee told you I had a half day today?"

George looked cornered. "Lee's really busy at the moment…" he trailed off, absentmindedly pulling at his bowtie. "There's a lot of customers, and—"

"Bollocks," Ange interrupted. "Did he tell you why we're fighting then?"

The redhead just stopped, and let his arms fall to his sides. His mouth fell open a little, but Angelina knew it was not to respond. Fred was gone. Fred was gone. And his brother was a poor replacement.

Tears welled in her eyes and she collapsed into the nearby sofa, burying her face in her hands. She started to cry, and she could hear George shift uncomfortably across the room, but she didn't care. She knew he didn't know what to say to her, and she knew he didn't know why she was crying. George's head was so lost in the clouds during their time at Hogwarts, she doubted he suspected something had been even slightly out of order between she and his twin brother. To think of telling him now was equally ludicrous. He was so dedicated to Katie and Lee, there wasn't a chance he wouldn't see her as the villain Lee did. Fred was gone, and no one could help her now.

A couple of moments passed before George tried tentatively, "Ange?"

She ignored him. He crossed the room and sat down beside her cautiously. She was dimly aware that he had probably never seen her cry before—not many people in this world had.

"Angelina?" George asked again, before placing a hand on her back. She could feel his discomfort in the contact, but she found herself surprisingly touched. The second Weasley twin had never been known for his powers of compassion or understanding. He always made jokes when he found himself trapped in a corner of emotional honesty, hoping to slither out unnoticed. But here he was now, actually trying to comfort her. It was…nice. And then she remembered coming across him and Fred in their seventh year attempting to console a first-year boy who had gotten on the wrong side of Dolores Umbridge and suffered the consequences, showing the kind of sympathy very few people—including Angelina—believed them capable of possessing. She was often wrong about the twins, especially George.

Feeling this very strongly, Ange turned to her friend and wrapped her arms around him, quieting herself and burying her face in his neck. He stiffened, obviously surprised, but then relaxed and returned the embrace.

"Hey," he said gently. "Hey, it's alright."

Ange knew George had no idea if things were alright, but let him talk anyway. "Is it?" she asked quietly. "Is it going to be?"

"Well, yeah," he said, pulling back now and letting her dry her eyes with the back of her hand. "I mean, it's you, isn't it? You're always alright. You're kind of…our rock."

She laughed hollowly. "I don't know about that anymore."

"Come on," he said bracingly. "Things will be okay. Christmas is crap, but Lee will come around. I know him. And you—you're stronger than most of us."

Angelina just shook her head. "Then why is it that you and Katie are the only ones who seem to have your heads on straight lately?"

George laughed now, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, Kates has been sick and I've been trying to look after her, so I guess we haven't had much opportunity to get in trouble, have we?"

She nodded. "George, I did something stupid," she said after a pause.

"Okay. So fix it."

She paused, startled by the simplicity of his answer. "What?"

"Fix it. Make it up to the people you've hurt, and then move on."

"It isn't that easy."

"Why not?" he asked. "Ange, our world is shit right now without endless drama that has an easy answer. If you did something stupid, say you're sorry, fix it, and keep going. I promise what I said is true. Lee will come around."

Angelina stared back at him. The green eyes that were once so lively, now-half dead, seemed to testify this truth to her if his tone hadn't already. _Did this really have an easy answer? It seemed impossible that something she had kept half-hidden away for so many years could simply be put to rest by making it up to Lee and, even though she didn't have a clue about it, Katie._

"All we've got is each other now," he continued. "And if we lose you, I don't know what we'll do."

George smiled and Angelina found it difficult not to return it.

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Good," he said more brightly now. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a new generation of young minds to corrupt…"

Ange laughed and he got up to go, but she reached out her hand to stop him.

"Hold on a moment," she said, sitting him back down. "I've thought about what you want to do for Katie's gift and I decided what I want to give."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes brightening. "What?"

She reached up under the many tiny braids of her hair to where her mother of pearl earrings were studded to her earlobes. She unclasped both and dropped one of them into George's hand.

"Ange," she said warily. "No…these were your grandmother's. You love them."

"Yeah," Angelina replied, her eyes shining. "But I love Katie more."

George smiled, and she knew she was on her way to moving past everything. Katie might not know her point in giving up the earring to George's plan, but she did. And she thought, somehow, that Fred did too.

XxX

Katie frowned as she tipped the box towards her. It was full of things she had had at her desk all year that she either wanted to clean or put away for the year to come, but she was having some trouble keeping balanced. Instead of offering to help her, Aarons had simply laughed. She supposed that now that Rita Skeeter had decided she was dull rather than an interesting human interest piece, her henchman security guard had decided Katie was no longer worth his notice or time. It was just as well.

The atmosphere in the _Daily Prophet _newsroom hadn't been particularly friendly at first. Only Jacquelyn had greeted her with a smile. When the others actually heard her speak to Madame Hudson, however, they had changed their minds. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she was a convincing invalid. Germaine had actually scolded her for coming in at all.

Katie had gotten to fill out her end-of-the-year forms, however, and exchanged gifts with Jacquelyn. Her friend and coworker had then helped her gather her things and clean off her desk, and had fished out the overly large box that she was now carrying from a nearby cupboard. With Christmas wishes and a brief hug, she had stepped out into the hallway adjoining the newsroom and the Ministry of Magic feeling positive about her visit and glad that she had come. And, if all went well, she would be back well within the two hour time frame guaranteed her by Ginny.

She was just headed for the doorway when Oliver came around the corner.

"Hey Katie," he said, startling her. She dropped her box once again, but Wood's easy reflexes kicked in and steadied it for her just in time. Katie sighed and let out a huff that rumpled her fringe.

"Shouldn't you be about a hundred feet in the air on a broomstick right now?" she asked. "You've got a rather important match on Friday, I believe."

She attempted to keep the steeliness out of her voice, but to eradicate it completely was impossible. She hadn't seen Oliver since he accused her of wanting to dance with him at the pub, and then subsequently disappeared. He wasn't high on her list of best friends at the moment.

"Oh, don't worry, I have been," he returned sportingly, and for the first time she noticed his windswept brown hair and the smear of mud on his left cheek. "Just stopped in to do an interview before second round of practices start. Our publicist insisted everyone do one—she's almost as bad as Johnson, as I've heard it. Couch isn't entirely thrilled."

"I can imagine," Katie said dryly.

"So you'll be there rooting for me, right?"

She laughed hollowly. "Oh, I'll be there," she assured. "But you forget that you're playing the Kenmare Krestels, which just so happens to be my brother's team. And family ties run deep, you know, especially during league championships."

"I hadn't forgotten," Oliver replied. "Just thought maybe you'd throw him over if I was convincing enough."

"You're the underdog by a long shot, Ol. Your team's too young. It would take a lot of talking to make me forget that." _And a lot of apologizing_, she added in her head.

He grinned. "Yeah, I know," he said. "It'll still be fun, though."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "Fun? Who are you, and what have you done with Oliver Wood, resident psychopath of the Gryffindor Tower?"

Wood laughed. "Okay, I want to win a little…alright, _a lot_," he added when she gazed at him further. "But I'm not dumb enough to be stupidly optimistic about it or anything."

She nodded, smiling politely and then readjusted the box. She made for the door, still not feeling overly comfortable with the situation.

As if noticing this, Wood moved to block her way.

"Katie, wait," he said, starting slowly. "I was actually kind of hoping to run into you today. I'd heard you were sick, but I just thought I'd see…"

He trailed off, and she just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Anyway," he said. "The thing is that I need to apologize for the way I've been acting lately, and…and especially for what happened at the pub. Disappearing like that. Classic prick."

Katie sighed. "Yeah, yeah you were. But it's not like I was incredibly mature either. You're a good person, and I was expecting you to just bend with my every whim."

Wood brushed this aside with a wave of his hand. "Nah," he said emphatically. "In the end, it was me being a prat. Can we go back to being friends?"

He looked so earnest in this request that it was impossible for Katie to do anything other than agree.

"Good," he said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Now, hold on…I brought something in case I saw you."

He reached in the back pocket of his Quidditch training trousers and pulled out a glossy piece of card stock.

New Years' Eve on the Coast

Come celebrate the advent of the New Year

At Elie, the East Neuk of Fife

With the Wood Family

Festivities and dancing begin 7 p.m.

At our home

Katie smirked in spite of herself and looked up after reading the invitation.

"Who knew you were so fancy, Oliver?" she teased.

Her old captain rolled his eyes. "My mum and dad," he explained. "They're into decorum. But plenty of my mates will be there…people from the old days, you know. And you're more than welcome to come and stay a few days with us, even. And your friends, of course—Angelina and Alicia, George and Lee if you want. Maybe Michael if he's not too sore at me after losing the match."

Katie laughed. "I'll ask them," she promised. "It sounds fun. Dancing, though?"

She raised an eyebrow, and Wood nodded fervently.

"Of course," he said. "What's a New Years' party without dancing? Although, I'm still keeping to my word…"

"You won't dance with me," she finished, laughing slightly. "Yeah, I know."

He winked at her, and Katie knew this provision now stood in place as a joke rather than his desperate attempts to woo her. She felt slightly relieved.

"Alright, Ol," she said. "I'll see you then. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," he returned, holding the door out for her. She went through, the icy breeze of December cutting through her pea coat and chilling her bones.

"Katie," he called after she had taken a few steps. She turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Here's this."

Oliver was holding out a small rectangular box toward her. It was a simple gold sheen, and had a tiny red bow on one side.

"I was saving this in case I saw you as well," he explained.

Her breath hitched uncomfortably in her throat.

"Oli, I didn't think to…" she frowned. How could she explain she had been too frustrated with him to get him a Christmas gift?

But he shrugged indifferently. "I know," he said. "I would have been surprised had you did. But don't worry, it's nothing huge."

Katie eyed him warily, but set the box down on the ground and accepted the small gift.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and reached up to give him a hug. His arms lingered at her waist as she withdrew, and placed the gift into the depths of her messenger bag. "Now. Merry Christmas."

She hoisted up the box and disappeared into the thick London crowd. Wood watched her go.

"Merry Christmas," he returned with a smile.

XxX

The shop's final customer had finally exited, the doors were closed for the day, and George Weasley stood leaning against the counter and glared at the four people in front of him. He had just finished reaming them—Ginny in particular—for conspiring against him to undermine his authority and let Katie Bell out onto the streets.

He knew he was being ridiculous, and that Charlie in particular looked more amused than repentant, but he didn't care. It had been a long day, and the last thing he needed was for Katie's bout of sickness to return and land himself in a frilly apron making chicken soup for the rest of the evening. Now the five employees of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were staring at the door and waiting for the shit to hit the fan, for lack of a less vulgar expression.

At long last, the little bell above the shop door tinkled, and Katie backed in in what she clearly thought was a secretive manner. Ginny lost it, clearly forgetting the guilt she had been entertaining just a moment ago, and dissolved into peals of laughter. Katie whirled around, looking from face to face and finally meeting George's angry expression. She tensed up for a moment, and then sighed.

"Oh, god," she said.

"Oh, god is right!" George exploded sternly. "Where the hell have you been? It's about two degrees outside, you're still sick, and you go gallivanting across town when I specifically told you to stay in bed!"

Ginny exploded into laughter again, and George wheeled on her.

"And you!" he shouted. "I'm not half done with you. You're supposed to be my sister! And then the two of you get together and make some kind of deal behind my back…"

"Katie's a free agent, George," Charlie pointed out, leaning against a nearby shelf with a grin. "Leave her be."

"Not while she's under my roof, she's not!" he said ridiculously.

"Excuse me?" Katie said, raising her hand from where she was still standing in the entryway. "Can I speak?"

"No!" George shouted, but he quickly backed off when she fixed him with her signature glare.

"Better calm down, mate," Lee advised, smirking.

"I went to work to collect my things and talk to my boss," Katie continued, setting down the rather large box she had been carrying. "And I sneaked out with Ginny's help because I didn't feel like dealing with you. And since when have you been dictator of this flat, anyway?"

George stared, aghast at the coup that was forming around him. _Some family._ He sunk into the chair behind the till, but Katie wasn't quite done with him yet.

"Oh, don't give me that wounded puppy dog look," she said, walking over to where he sat. "You're just upset because I'm not letting you play big man-in-charge anymore."

His head snapped up, surprised, and Charlie now joined Ginny with a big, echoing laugh.

"Besides," she carried on, now smiling a little mischievously. "I know this is all an act."

"An act?" he repeated, feeling slightly annoyed at this condescension.

"Yes. Everyone knows you're the sensitive one."

"_What_?" George nearly exploded. He somehow felt that his manhood had taken a direct hit. What was she on about?

Katie shrugged, smiling. "You were always the sensitive twin. The entire castle said so."

George's mind was whirling. "I'm not s_ensitive_." He spat out the word like it was a cold, stale cup of tea. "You're barmy."

"Yes you are."

He was stunned, searching for words to combat this complete nonsense. He turned to Lee, who simply shrugged and grinned as if to say, "_You're on your own with this one, Georgie_."

"How the hell do you figure that?" he finally managed. "I'm George Weasley! I dropped out of school and spent most of my time there in detention for being _insensitive_. Do you have any idea how many girls I've snogged?"

"No," Katie admitted. "Do you?"

George thought about this briefly, but knew he had lost count somewhere during his fifth year. "More than Fred!" he finally declared, triumphantly. "Now who was the sensitive twin?"

"Fred was dating me for a good portion of that time," Katie said. "He didn't have as much of an opportunity."

"Well, exactly. _He _committed. I had hex marks all over my face for _not _committing. I slept with Parvati Patil after the Halloween Party!"

"_What?" _ Ginny shouted, disgusted. George colored.

"Well, I did," he said in a smaller voice.

"Because you were feeling _lonely_," Katie continued, emphasizing the traitorous word. "Fred was also the one who wanted to blackmail Ludo Bagman. Until _you _stopped him. And you took me to the Yule Ball when no one else would, including him. You also sat with Ginny all night when she was in the Hospital Wing her first year with dragon pox."

"That's true," she chipped in, grudgingly. She was still rather disturbed about the Parvati Patil news, apparently.

"But how does that make me _sensitive_?" George cried, floundering. This was not quite the way he had envisioned himself in the eyes of women.

"And you came with me to the Hospital Wing after feeding me the wrong end of a Nose Bleed Nougat our seventh year."

"Fred came too!"

"Yeah, because he felt guilty because we'd had a huge fight the night before. _And_," she said, savoring the moment. "According to Alicia, you cried after the first time you slept together."

At these words, George felt himself flush a very deep red. He was sure his face was close to matching his hair. He wanted to open his mouth to deny it, but it was unfortunately true, strictly speaking. He hadn't _cried_, exactly…not really…but he had felt something like tears well up in the corners of his eyes. They were nothing compared to the ones Alicia had shed, though. And it w_as _the first time, for both of them. But it was too late—already Charlie was howling with laughter and Lee was giving him a doubtful look. He was also unsure about how comfortable he was with Katie knowing the more intimate details of his sex life. His older brother being privy to his humiliation was one thing (and especially in front of Ron) but this concept of Katie getting secondhand details of his behavior in bed was previously unexplored territory, and it made him nervous. If she ever gained knowledge of that, he had always wanted it to be because—well, if he admitted to thinking about _that_, he would surely have to kill himself immediately afterward.

Recognizing defeat, George kept his mouth shut. There was nothing to do now but wait for what sure to be Charlie's endless teasing and Ron's triumphant grins to cease.

XxX

Katie Bell folded her arms in front of her chest, happily surveying her defeated opponent. George looked completely undone, and frustrated to boot. The diversion tactic had sapped the rest of her remaining strength and she felt she _would _have to spend the rest of the day in bed after all, but it had been worth it.

Whatever turmoil was going on in George's head finally burst, and he stood up angrily.

"Fine," he said, rather immaturely. "If you're all against me, I'll just go and do the books myself. See if I ever let you work here again."

He turned to disappear into the back room, shouting at Ron and Lee to accompany him. Katie watched him go, cocking her head to one side in interest.

"What?" Charlie asked, noticing her gaze.

"Oh, nothing," Katie said simply. "George has just got a pretty cute bum."

Ginny made a noise of disgust and rolled her eyes, while Charlie raised his eyebrows in mock amusement.

"Oh has he?" he questioned. "What about me?"

"Turn around," she commanded. Charlie did so, and she observed.

"Not bad," was the verdict. "Must be a family trait."

"Oh, Christ," Ginny groaned while Charlie burst into loud laughter.

Katie grinned.


	43. I Want To Be With You At Christmas

**A/N: After this chapter, there won't be any of the other characters' (i.e. anyone not Katie or George) points of view through Christmas, maybe the New Year. As most of you have been hounding me for more of the George/Katie plotline, I'm sure that won't bother a lot of people but I thought I would let you know anyway. And for those of you who ARE anxious for more of said plotline…well, I promise you that you will enjoy the next few chapters. But that's all I'm saying! Okay, cheers everyone.**

_All that I've lost is fading from view_

_And all I know is_

_I want to be with you for Christmas—Hem_

Sunday morning arrived faster than any of them were prepared for, and after a great deal of swearing and throwing things into suitcases, the three residents of the flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had finally managed to pack Katie up and get ready to send her away. Charlie and Ginny were once again over in order to help George and Lee clean the shop—Ron had conveniently planned a day trip with Hermione—and the five of them sat in the flat now waiting for Michael Bell to arrive and help take his sister's inordinate amount of things home for the holiday.

"I don't understand what you're doing with so much stuff, Kates," Charlie said conversationally, looking over the small pile of suitcases and boxes. "You'll be gone, what…four days before coming back here?"

Katie frowned slightly before Lee butted in.

"We thought the same, Charlie old boy, but most of this stuff was _dumped _into the containers you see before you without anyone looking to see if it was needed or wanted." He spoke with a bit of a resentful tone.

"A lot of it is _presents_," Katie said defensively, and crossed her arms in front of her. She was dressed in classic Katie attire, George noticed, with rather worn and faded jeans and her bright green pea coat over a blue and brown striped jumper. An assembly of brightly-colored clothing without any thought to coordination, yet one that still seemed to work. On her head was a multi-colored knit hat he recognized from a dozen different Hogsmeade outings. And peeking out underneath was her ever-lengthening dark hair, now in its natural loose waves and half curls. For an instant, George recognized the first-year girl with the messy mane of long brown hair that she had been, its wavy tresses almost always tied back in a hasty ponytail. It was strange—she had only had her hair that length for one year before chopping it all off that summer—but it was how George always thought of her. Long hair, wide green eyes, the smallest amount of freckles scattered across her nose; never quite _pretty_, exactly, but almost coltish in her looks and movements sometimes in a way that you could almost see the lovely girl she would become.

Not that George had really noticed or taken account of her in that way back then. That had been Fred's thing. While all the other boys in their year were looking at Lisa Turpin, himself included, Fred had always been hankering after Katie. Katie, with her scabby knees and bruised elbows, who always seemed to be able to hide a slingshot in one of her knee socks before coming to class. George had liked Katie, sure—she was one of the good guys—but she may well have been a bloke for all he knew, and for many years, he didn't have the slightest comprehension as to why his twin looked at her in that odd way. And then, as they'd gotten older, she had gotten cuter…but so had Alicia Spinnet, and just about all of the other girls they knew. If you were looking at their close friends, Angelina was the one who had always been most likely to turn heads. She was tall and classically beautiful, and George still didn't understand Fred's hang up on Katie, except that it had been there so long it would have been difficult to get rid of now that she was actually starting to look pretty.

And then, of course, there had been the summer before their sixth year when, quite suddenly and with no warning of any kind, George had understood completely. And looking at her now, in that hat he'd assumed was five years gone at least, with her hair growing that way, he felt a sense of homesickness he couldn't explain. That old-fashioned feeling of falling away, knowing he couldn't call any of it back.

Ginny's voice brought an end to his daydreaming, however. "Is _my _present in there?" she asked devilishly.

"Nope," Katie replied shortly. "Because _you _didn't hold up your end of the bargain."

Ginny made a noise of frustration and then slumped against the wall, looking extremely put out. Charlie laughed loudly at her, and put an arm around his little sister.

"I still got you a little something, though—a _very _little something, mind," Katie added, grinning now. Ginny recovered her smile. _She fits into my family like a glove_, George thought idly.

"You awake over there, Georgie?" Charlie called, a smirk pulling at his lips.

George looked up uninterestedly. "What can I do for you, Charlie?"

His brother, perhaps taken off guard by the lack of a joke in his reply, regarded him curiously. Katie turned to him and raised an eyebrow to which George shrugged. Charlie looked from him to Katie in a way that made George uncomfortable, as though his mind was suddenly open to public view and his brother could see all the half-formed thoughts he had been entertaining since the day Magda told him Katie had turned her away from the Halloween party. George immediately backpedaled.

"What?" he asked accusatorily. "I'm tired and I've been alternately cleaning and packing since six thirty this morning. I'm not going to be your performing monkey all the time."

"No one asked you to be, so calm down," Ginny snapped, which caused everyone to laugh.

"No need to be so uptight, little brother," Charlie echoed. "Just merely asking a question. You looked either philosophical, or brain dead—couldn't tell which."

George rolled his eyes, but was saved a reply by a loud crack and Michael's appearance on the counter.

"Oh, well placed," Michael grinned upon seeing where he was standing. Charlie reached over to give his friend a hand down, and soon the elder Bell was surveying the five of them.

"Good Lord, little sister, are you moving out?" was the first thing he said on seeing Katie's pile of luggage. His sister groaned and the rest of them laughed again as she slammed one of the larger suitcases into his arms.

"Just shut up and help me out, will you?" she snapped. Michael laughed goodnaturedly and hoisted up the bag along with another he'd grabbed from the floor.

"Alright, alright," he said. "But all this is going to get Mum's hopes up—she's still persuaded you'll decide to move back in, you know."

He disappeared again, and with a few trips, he and Katie managed to disapparate with all of her luggage. They appeared one last time in order to say their goodbyes.

George watched her casually from where he stood leaning next to the Christmas tree. She moved from Charlie to Ginny, his brother's arms falling from her waist lightly as she crunched Ginny into a tight hug. Then Michael began chatting with Charlie, and Katie moved to Lee who gave her a bear hug and then took both of her hands in his, pressing his forehead against her own. He whispered something to her with a mischievous smirk and she laughed, throwing her head back as she did so. Lee pulled her in close again and the pair of them turned to gaze in his direction, identical looks of amusement on their faces.

Raising his eyebrows, George straightened up from his slump.

"What?" he asked.

Katie laughed again. Her face reminded George of sunlight.

"Well aren't you going to say goodbye to me?" she asked playfully. "I _am_ going to be gone for three whole days."

"I could," he replied, straightening all the way up now and taking a couple of steps toward the rest of the group. He stuck his hands into his trouser pockets casually.

She released Lee and smiled back at him now. After a few moments, the chatter in the room reached a lull in which the rest of those present turned to look curiously at the uncommon lack of noise from their corner of the room.

"Well, Kates?" Michael asked impatiently. "Are you going to say goodbye, or just stand there? We've got a lot of wrapping left to do, among the other traditional rubbish Mum always plans."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she responded dismissively, but still didn't move forward. George just regarded her simply from where she stood.

Michael and Ginny appeared confused, but Lee simply smirked and Charlie looked knowingly between the pair of them.

"Alright," he said to break up the silence. "Let's give these two a moment. Gin, what do you say we show Michael the improvements we've managed to make to this fine establishment over the last few days?"

"What?" Ginny asked abruptly. "Why? Honestly, I don't get it."

"Just come on," Charlie replied, putting an arm around his sister and guiding her out the door after Michael and Lee. "I don't think you properly cleaned your section, anyway."

The sound of Ginny's returning argument was lost, however, as the four others disappeared down the stairs leaving the door to close behind them. George and Katie remained where they had previously been standing, and Katie laughed a little and then smiled.

"Well?" she said. George noted the way she fidgeted on the balls of her feet and thought idly of how she hadn't been able to stand still the first night of that ridiculous dueling club Gilderoy Lockhart had set up in their fourth year.

"Well, here we go," he answered, grinning back at her.

"Christmas," Katie said apprehensively.

"Christmas," he agreed.

She sighed and sat down on her bed, which was for once made up and neat. She rested her chin against her palm.

"Oh, George do you think we'll be able to do it?"

He sat on the bed across from her. "We have to," he said simply. He wasn't really thinking of that, though. He hadn't planned to until it was absolutely unavoidable. Instead, he was noticing that it was finally properly snowing through the window behind them and how the flakes shaped her troubled face.

"Well," she said, evidently rallying her spirits. "Alright then."

She stood up to give him a hug, and he joined her. As he held her close, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, a thought suddenly entered his mind that worried him and that hadn't given him cause to be anxious before.

"Katie?" he questioned gently.

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. He still had his hands on her waist. "Hmm?" she hummed in response.

He spoke in a voice that a few days ago would have been traitorous to his cause that he was not sensitive. "Do you—do you even want to spend Christmas with my family?"

George had literally not spent a moment considering she might feel otherwise until that moment. It just hadn't entered his head. He couldn't remember the last time his family had spent Christmas together without some odd member of the extended family or friend group present. Harry alone had been with them most of the last seven years. Before that, there was Muriel or Bilius or the Prewetts…And this year his mother had gone out of her way to issue a Christmas invitation to literally anyone she felt might need a place to go during the holidays. Why the Bells had been included on the list, he suddenly couldn't understand—their family was whole again, and there was Elizabeth and the new boyfriend besides. Molly Weasley must have done it in the natural course of inviting anyone who used to attend their dessert nights and he had accepted it like she did, without thinking.

The reason, of course, for the invitations must be that his mother thought that filling the house to the brim would somehow make it easier not to think of Fred. It was rubbish, of course; everyone invited must know that Molly Weasley would spend most of the holiday in tears, Arthur would be sullen, the rest of the family strained, and no one would be able to predict what psychotic episode George Weasley was most likely to fall into. None of this was conducive to guests—especially one who had her own reasons for wanting to forget the past. Katie could not want to be a part of that.

Still, she studied his eyes now with doubt. "What?" she asked in surprise. "George, of course I do."

There was a pause before she added with staged, quiet cynicism, "I was going to, anyway, wasn't I? Only difference would be that I'd have a ring on my finger and a husband next to me."

George felt an immediate downward pull at his gut and he unconsciously released her waist, letting his eyes fall.

"Hey," she said just as quickly, moving back toward him. She slid her hands over his chest until they rested at his shoulders.

"I want to be with you for Christmas," she whispered. He shifted his eyes toward hers cautiously, and was surprised to find the look there matched her tone.

"Me too."

Katie smiled at him softly, and he returned the gaze. The incline of her lips slowly faded, however, as the space between them suddenly began to feel heavy. George's mouth fell open just slightly and he heard the sound of a sharp intake of breath.

"KATIE!" Michael's voice shocked the pair of them and Katie instantly stepped backward. "Will you wrap it up in there? I wanted to be gone by now!"

They looked at each other, still slightly dazed, until Katie broke the atmosphere by replacing the blank look with a friendly—though somewhat guarded—grin. She hugged George again and then placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you on Christmas Eve," she smiled, squeezing his hand.

George let a half smile tug on his face, and pushed her toward the door. "See you around, Bell," he replied.

She gave him one last grin upon reaching the door, opened it, and then she was gone. George suddenly felt as though all the light in the room had gone out. Trembling slightly, he turned to gaze out the window. The snow had never seemed so cold.

XxX

Alicia was tired and sore from her fourth consecutive day of skiing. She loved the invigorating sweep of her skiis across the fresh powder, and the feel of the icy wind against her face, but now that night had descended and her small family was once again alone in the isolated mountain cabin, she was beginning to feel loneliness steal over her once more.

"Lissy?" her mother asked in her tired voice from where she stood leaning against the doorframe to her parent's bedroom. "Are you going to go to bed soon?"

Alicia turned from where she was curled up on the windowsill. "Yes, Mum," she promised.

The woman with the careworn face took a second look at her daughter. "Are you sure you're alright, dear?"

"Perfectly, thank you," Alicia said, managing a small smile. "Good night."

"Good night," her mother replied after gazing at her for a few more moments. "Get some sleep."

"I will."

As soon as the bedroom door was shut, Alicia turned once more to gaze out at the dark and frozen landscape beyond the window. The fire in the small cabin was burning low, but gave out just enough heat to keep her comfortable. Burying herself further in the soft white sweater she was wearing, Alicia breathed out slowly and allowed herself to be distracted by the number of stars in the sky above.

The area really was quite amazing, and Alicia was beginning to see why her father preferred to stay up in this lonely area rather than in the bustling Swiss village below. It was beautiful here. Still, her thoughts managed to drift away from the snowshoes on the cabin walls, the small television and DVD player, and the fake Christmas tree that they had set up in the corner. They left the Muggle world and kept Alicia wondering just what her friends were doing at the moment, and how they were managing to get along.

She worried about Angelina and Lee, who didn't seem to have parted under good terms. And she worried about Katie, of course, whom she just knew wasn't quite as brave as she was acting. But most of all, Alicia worried about George and what would happen to the remaining half of the legendary Weasley duo once he got back home. He hadn't seemed to fully internalize the season quite yet, and while she was glad it had been so long since George had had a setback, she was afraid that this sudden realization of a holiday without his twin brother might hit him rather hard and unexpectedly. His situation literally broke her heart, and yet all she could do was hope he could be stronger than she was.

And she missed Fred. She obviously hadn't been his girlfriend or his best friend or his brother, but she had loved him anyway with that deep kind of real love she set aside for anyone who was her true friend. He had rescued her from obscurity, introduced her to Katie and Angelina, and forced her to try out for the Quidditch team when she was too afraid. The blackness of reality without Fred was beginning to circle around her once more, threatening consumption. She was suffocating, asphyxiated, and the only thing that was saving her now was knowing she could wake up every morning, strap on her skis, and race down the slopes to beat the devils that were right at her heels.

Alicia shifted her position slightly, and wondered what Fred would tell her now if he could walk in, join her for a cup of cocoa, and discuss the current death trap that was her love life. Of course, if she was honest with herself and honest with what she knew about Fred, he would tell her that she needed to relax and allow herself to be happy with Michael Bell.

And he would be right, of course. The sensible thing to do in this situation—and Alicia was always sensible—would be to stay with her boyfriend through the New Year, and then reevaluate if her current mood swings and doubts were the result of real problems or holiday-inflicted melancholia. She rather suspected it was the latter.

But yet how annoyed Michael had made her their last night together! She had been annoyed anyway, to be perfectly honest. His purchase of that expensive broom had irritated her for some reason she couldn't explain, and his general cavalier attitude toward what the holidays might mean for her and everyone else involved made her angry. Even now, as she gazed at the prettily wrapped package from Michael sitting under the tree, it made her frown—as if material possessions could make up for the lack of real feeling he was displaying.

The night at the pub when they had met up with Ben and some of the other employees at St. Mungo's had been further tedium. Michael was in good spirits and really quite funny, but he had not managed to connect with her friends. The girls looked at him with mild interest in his comparative good looks and all the lads had been polite, but it was obvious that his attractions held no more sway than that. He was loud, joking, and—if Alicia really allowed herself to admit it—strikingly immature next to Ben, who smiled at her calmly and made occasional witty remarks to her under his breath.

When they spoke about the complications of infusing Transfiguration with surgery, Michael had had nothing to offer. When they discussed plant-related infections, he hadn't even tried. And by the time Alicia and Ben had been in a deep conversation about different potions options for the common cold, she suspected he wasn't listening at all. Instead, he looked for openings in order to tell jokes that made everyone laugh but no one think. She hadn't even invited him in when he dropped her off at her flat, despite the fact that Angelina was gone and he was looking rather attractive in that slim black jumper. In the whole course of their relationship, Alicia couldn't remember another time he had made her more embarrassed than happy.

It wasn't that she didn't like Michael, because she did. And it wasn't that she wanted to date Ben, either. He was attractive, surely, and thinking that he had wanted to go out with her still made her blush, but it wasn't something she was intending to act on. It was more that Alicia was feeling more and more alone as winter wore on—she was adrift at sea and hardly knew what to turn to in order to anchor herself. It seemed no one could reach her anymore. Not even her parents. Suffocating. Asphyxiated.

A very low knock on the door suddenly caused her to jump. Old habits made her reach immediately for her wand, and she gripped its end firmly as she listened for another sound. It came; the knock was coming from the front door.

Irrationally, perhaps, Alicia was frightened. She knew very well that she and her parents were in a cabin isolated from every other person for miles, and that they were surrounded by a 12-foot wall of snow. Someone had obviously come with intentions of finding them, and there was no exit strategy available if that someone's intentions were bad. Cautiously, the blonde girls crept toward the door with her wand out, trying to peer out of the windows to see who the visitor might be. The night was too dark, however, and she was left with her own mind's conjectures, currently blasting off at a rate faster than any she had known for months. The knock came again.

Alicia took in a deep breath, raised her wand, and threw open the front door.

It was Ben Hammond.

A gust of icy wind and snow rushed in, and Alicia gasped from a combination of cold and surprise.

"Hey there," Ben said calmly, holding up his hands. "It's just me…you can put your wand down."

But already, she was lowering her weapon, too aghast for words.

"Can I come in?" he asked politely. Alicia recollected herself enough to nod and stand aside to let him in.

Ben was dressed in a heavy jumper and coat, his dark hair slightly disheveled from the wind and snow. He stomped his boots on the front porch of the cabin and then entered into the small living room.

"My parents are asleep," she whispered, closing the door and following after him. "What are you _doing _here? How did you know where I was?"

Ben looked at her as though unsure for the first time that his coming might not have been a brilliant idea.

"You did tell me what village you were staying near," he explained. "And I asked around until I found out where you were. The manager gave me a map, and I found you."

Alicia stared at him. "That doesn't tell me why you're here, though," she said. "Why on earth aren't you with your sister?"

She knew that Ben had lost both of his parents and another sibling during the war, and that he and his older sister were all that was left of the Hammond family. She could not fathom why he had abandoned her to follow Alicia to the middle of nowhere in the Swiss Alps.

Ben opened his mouth and then closed it again, apparently weighing his words.

"If you want me to leave…" he began.

"Of course not," she said quickly. "Don't be silly. It's about one in the morning and it's freezing outside."

"Your parents…"

"I'll just tell them in the morning that you showed up. Now what are you doing here?"

He sighed and looked at her briefly with his dark brown eyes.

"Ainsley's decided to bring her boyfriend to spend the holidays with our aunt in America," he explained. "And I was going to go with them, but…"

"But?"

He shrugged uncertainly. "I thought you might want someone to spend Christmas with," he said finally.

Alicia looked at him seriously, and after several moments said, "You know that I'm seeing someone, right?"

"Oh, I know that," Ben rushed on quickly. "That's not why I'm here, I just—I'm not asking anything. I just care about you, Alicia. And you've seemed a little…lost lately."

She saw the sincerity in his eyes and felt herself begin to weaken. All she wanted to do in that moment was curl into him and let him hold her, maybe fall asleep in front of the fire that was now turning to ashes. But she didn't. Instead she took his hand, pressed it into her own, and led him into her bedroom. She was too tired, too weary to think of the consequences of letting him stay.

"Here," she said, switching on the light. "It's a good thing this room has got bunk beds. You can take the bottom—blankets are in the cupboard, and I think I can sneak you a pair of my dad's jim jams…"

"Alicia," he said, stopping her as she moved to make her way out again. She looked up. "Thank you."

She nodded, smiling a little for the first time that evening.

"I'm glad you came," she said softly.


	44. Our Troubles Will Be Far Away

**A/N: Hello! I think a few of you were confused by my last author's note. I'm not abandoning the side stories, I'm just halting them for the Christmas chapters. Once Christmas is passed (which should be in the next 2-3 chapters), I'm returning to them. Okay? Okay! Carry on!**

_This is Christmas and_

_This is home_

_Peace on earth's been_

_A long time coming—Curt Smith_

Katie hummed happily as she and Michael continued to string popcorn on the twine they had found in the attic. They were sitting around the family Christmas tree, which had until that day remained mostly bare, and were listening to the wireless while sucking on the candy canes Aunt Elizabeth had prematurely stuck in their stockings. It had been a nice day, starting with a huge pancake breakfast at which everyone had stuffed themselves and Liz, Michael, and Katie had meticulously cut snowflakes out of paper that Meda had provided. It was a noisy, cheerful affair in which Liz had instructed the children to disobey their mother's explicit instructions when her back was turned. With a little help from a few handy charms, the three had made beautifully intricate renditions of Father Christmas, holiday hippogriffs, and even a house elf with a wreath around its head. Meda was in ecstasies over her childrens' ability to perform so well without the aid of magic; Nicolas only raised his eyebrows from where he was still flipping pancakes into the air.

Now, their parents were gone to do some last minute holiday shopping and as Elizabeth was out to dinner with Daryl again, the two siblings were comfortably enjoying the fire they had going as they worked. Outside, the air swirled with sleet and rain.

"When do you think it's going to give in and snow properly?" Katie asked her brother, momentarily dropping the popcorn. "It _is_ December 22."

"Never," Michael easily replied. "It's Essex, love. Since when does anything go right here?"

She sighed and after a pause, her brother added hesitantly, "Charlie says it's snowing in Devon, though. Should be a good metre-and-a-half by the time we get there."

Katie made no outward sign that she had heard him except to cast her eyes downward. She reconcentrated her efforts on stringing the remainder of the popcorn onto the twine and furrowed her brow. Michael, after observing her for a moment, did likewise.

"By the way," she said in a tone that made it obvious she was attempting to dissipate the heavy air that had suddenly settled in around them. "How was your last night out with Alicia? You never said. And she was looking daggers when you two left the flat."

"Was she?" said Michael carefully.

"You know she was."

He sighed. "Yeah, she was. I don't know why, though…she seemed upset that I'd bought a new broom."

Katie looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah, I thought it was a bit odd."

"Are you sure she wasn't just taking the piss?"

Her brother gave her a look. "_You _know she wasn't."

Katie sighed. "Well, she definitely didn't look like she was, you're right. So go on, then. How was the rest of the evening?"

Michael shrugged noncommittally. "It was alright, I suppose. She was still a bit out of it. Didn't seem to laugh at my jokes as much, or want her mates to meet me…"

Katie rolled her eyes. "_No one _laughs at your jokes," she reminded him. "And that's just Alicia for you—I think she was always slightly ashamed to introduce me and Lee and the twins to her Prefect friends at school. She thought she was a little posh at times, I expect."

He just nodded, still musing. After a moment, he continued.

"I think 'Lic is grieving more than she's allowing herself to believe…" he said sensibly. "She likes being the level-headed one of you girls, I think, and so when she feels shaken, it's that much worse. Probably doesn't help being tucked away in that cabin in the middle of nowhere with just her parents for company either. They don't understand what she's going through."

Again, Katie fell quiet. When Michael looked up, she was staring into the fireplace.

He hesitated. "Kates?" he began. "Katie?"

She turned to look at him.

"Look," he said slowly. "Mum and Dad have asked me to tell you…well…that the Weasleys owled us two days ago. Asking if we wanted to come early on Christmas Eve before dinner to—to visit Fred's grave. With them."

Katie's breath hitched in her throat. It was almost imperceptible, but Michael caught it.

"It would be up to you," he added.

Feigning unconcern, she took up the popcorn string again and was silent for several seconds.

"Katie," he tried again gently. "I know you don't want to think about it, but—"

"It's fine," she answered quietly, dropping her work and drawing her legs beneath her in order to stand up. "We'll go."

"Are you sure?" he pressed quickly, getting up to join her. "We could just—"

"I'm sure."

It wasn't a short tone, or a particularly angry one. It was simply resigned, touched with a bit of sadness.

Without another word, Katie moved toward the stairs and stood leaning against the rail for a moment to steady her breathing. So there it was then, she thought. It was actually happening. The dull ache that she had been carrying around in her heart suddenly flared up again; sutures that had taken months to put in place were ripped clean without warning, leaving the wound as raw as it had been when she first sustained it. She felt the old grief bubble up in her throat, suffocating her, consuming her. _Fred is eight months gone_, a small, cruel voice whispered inside her mind. _And you're alone_.

Alone.

(_To visit Fred's grave_.)

She grasped for the ring that hung around her neck, her fingers bumbling around the small silver band.

(_With them.)_

She felt herself falling, fading away. The wave that had swept over her was now taking her hostage, leaving her groundless and groping for land. She waited for the tide to recede—and then Michael put his hand on her shoulder.

"Katie, you've got to let us try and help you—" he began. But he was cut short by the door slamming open, and two couples hurrying inside amidst endless shopping bags and boxes.

"Michael!" Nicolas roared, without looking up at his children. From the hallway where they were standing, only his eldest son's back was visible from the corner of his eye. He hurried to the couch where he set down a rather heavy looking box. "Your mum's got me an early Christmas present, and you'll never guess what it is…"

"It's a keyboard!" interrupted Meda, now crowding around her husband. "Just like in the old days, Mikey, can you imagine? Do you still remember any of your lessons?"

Michael hesitated in the hallway, looking back at his sister. Katie stepped further into the shadows.

"Just go," she whispered. "Tell them I've gone to bed."

"Kates—"

"_Please_."

"Doesn't matter if he does, Meda my darling, I'm not giving this up for the world tonight," Nicolas shouted from further into the sitting room. "And Liz is going to sing for us all!"

"I'll do no such thing," Elizabeth protested falsely. "You interrupted my dinner date over that silly thing and insisted on dragging us home. The least you can do is let me listen to the instrument in peace."

"Oh settle down, baby," Daryl said in his smooth Chicago accent. "Let's hear that sweet voice of yours."

Katie gave Michael one last look. "I just need a bit of alone time," she said firmly.

He nodded. "Alright," he said. "If you're sure."

With that, she disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom, but not without first gazing down for a few moments over the railing. Only one short inquiry passed as to where Katie was—Michael gave them a significant look, and no one said another word on the matter. Nicolas made short work of opening the box and setting up the new instrument, and within minutes they were gathered together around the keyboard.

"I'm playing your favorite, love," her father said, tilting his head upward to kiss his wife. "It's the best gift I've received in years."

Andromeda blushed a little and looked over toward her sister as Nicolas played the first few chords. Elizabeth began first, and soon all five of them were singing.

"_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_

_Let your heart be light_

_From now on, our troubles will be out of sight."_

Katie stared hollowly at her family below her. It was though an invisible curtain had suddenly been drawn between them and she felt for a moment as if she were the one that had died.

"_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_

_Make the Yuletide gay_

_From now on, our troubles will be_

_Far away."_

She'd thought that the pain had ebbed, but she realized now that it had just been hiding, imperceptibly tucked away. In the spaces between people, perhaps. It had still hurt somewhere.

Limbs shaking just slightly, Katie closed her door and sat down on the bed. She stared at the wall for a few more moments (_You've got to let us try and help you) _before, suddenly overcome by fatigue, she fell across the mattress without bothering to cover herself with blankets. Outside, the sleet thickened. She was freezing cold. Her family's singing still floated through the door, and seemed even to get louder as though there were more than five people down in the sitting room.

"_Through the years, we all will be together_

_If the fates allow_

_Until then, we'll have to muddle through_

_Somehow."_

The sleet swirled faster and turned to thick snow. Katie contracted into herself as the cold seeped through her bedroom window. The music swelled.

"_So have yourself a merry little Christmas now."_

"_Do you know where that song comes from?" Alicia piped up as the six friends made their way through the snow-laden Hogsmeade high street. She was speaking specifically to George, who had joined her as the small blonde girl struggled to keep up with her more long-legged friends. Lee was leading the way, and Angelina had fallen into place beside Fred, who was carrying Katie on his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. It was dusk, and the twinkling lights from the thatched roof cottages were beginning to pop on as residents settled in for the snowy winter night._

"_From inside a small wizarding town pub, courtesy of a local, badly-tuned choir?" Fred guessed, beating his twin to it and causing the entire group to laugh as they passed the music that was floating outside of The Three Broomsticks._

_Alicia scowled. "_No,_" she said pointedly. "Is everything a joke to you, Fred Weasley?"_

"_Only the things that matter."_

"_Tell us where the song comes from, 'Lic," George interrupted genially. "Muggle tradition, I imagine?"_

_She beamed at him gratefully. "Yes," she said. "From a musical called 'Meet Me in St. Louis.' It was originally very depressing. It moved several soldiers to tears, apparently."_

"_That's cheerful 'Lic, thanks for that," Katie called, bobbing upward as Fred repositioned his arms that were supporting her weight._

"_Quite a way to end a lovely, Dolores-free day," agreed Fred._

"_Stuff it, you two," Angelina said abruptly. "Finish your story, 'Lic."_

"_Anyway, it was about a family that had to leave their home behind and move to New York City. The older sister was trying to cheer up the younger one."_

"_With a song about 'living in the past?'" Katie continued in her bluntly doubtful way. "No thank you."_

"_I wouldn't mind living in the past this year," sighed Angelina. "No crackers, no holiday treacle tart, barely any trees…"_

"_And one large, pink and frilly problem," Lee reminded them, pulling off his glove and holding up his right hand. "'I will respect authority,'" he quoted in a booming stage voice._

"_Lee, not again!" Alicia shouted. "I keep telling you all to lay low! There's no point in openly opposing her. Fred, George…don't tell me you two—"_

"_Never, 'Lic," George said in a sporting voice, while Fred cackled maliciously. _

"_Katie?" Alicia pleaded. _

"_Hers says 'I will not talk back,'" Fred laughed as Katie turned her head to give Alicia a look of highly unconvincing repentance. "But that was two weeks ago…let's test her to see if she's learned, shall we?"_

"_Fred, NO!" _

_But it was too late. He had already bent low, prized Katie off his back and tossed her into a nearby snow bank. Katie struggled valiantly to fight him off, but he was nearly a foot taller than she was and he soon had snow in her face. _

"_Admit you were in love with Gilderoy Lockhart!" he laughed loudly. "Tell all your mates."_

_Katie shook herself free of the snow and shouted back. "I was not!"_

_He immediately wrestled her back down to the ground and tossed another snowball at her. "Don't talk back," he teased. "You were so!"_

_This had been the latest topic of conversation for the group, who had been discussing past Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers in one of their frequent complaints about Umbridge. Angelina had unthinkingly submitted the fact that Katie had once been in love with Lockhart, something she had reportedly ascertained from secretly reading her diary in their fourth year._

"_Was _not_," she grunted, finally managing to throw off Fred, who was now weak from laughter. She forced herself on top of him and smeared snow in his face. "Angelina's a liar, and you're a git."_

"_Angelina!" Fred wailed, as if mortally wounded. "Tell Kates I'm not a git."_

"_I think she's the git for dating you," Ange replied, throwing him a look that none of the others quite understood, and which Fred ignored._

"_You're probably right," he admitted, grinning at Katie, who had now curled up against him. "But then again, she doesn't have anyone much better vying for her attentions. The only other date she's had in the last year was with my brother, who nearly bored her to death with his pathetic excuse for dancing."_

_George rolled his eyes and casually tossed a snowball at his twin, who took it full in the face laughing. _

"_I can't believe you can bring up the Yule Ball so casually like that," Katie scowled, once their friends deserted them for the warmth of the departing school carriages. "If I recall correctly, you blatantly asked another girl right in front of me. My best friend, in fact."_

"_That I did," Fred sighed dramatically. "But if _I _recall correctly, I quite made that up to you afterward."_

_Kate couldn't help but grin at the mischievous glint in Fred's eyes and relinquished. _

"_Oh fine," she admitted. "But I'm still glad I'm not living in Christmas past, no matter what Alicia's stupid song says."_

"_Agreed. We keep looking forward, my love. Gaiety, Kates. Always gaiety."_

_She welcomed his kiss quite readily, not caring for an instant that the pair of them were snogging in a snow bank to the side of a busy main road. Minerva McGonagall apparently cared, however, as she uttered a strangled little cry when she came upon them moments later._

"_Miss Bell!" she said, shocked. "Mr. Weasley! The pair of you are going to miss the carriages, and don't think I'll care one bit if I find out you've frozen to death out here. You know what Professor Umbridge says about displays of affection. Now get on with you!"_

"_Oh, we wouldn't have frozen, Professor," Fred replied jauntily, as he offered a hand to Katie and pulled her up. "I think we would have found a way to keep warm."_

_Before McGonagall could reply, however, the couple was running down the snowy street as quick as they could toward the awaiting carriages._

"_Bye, Minerva!" Katie cackled wickedly as their professor shouted after her._

"_Miss Bell! _Really_—just because it's Christmas doesn't mean you can say anything you like!"_

"_I love you," Katie grinned, squeezing Fred's hand. "Can I say that?"_

_The redhead helped her into the carriage and then joined her, quickly closing any semblance of space between them._

"_Whenever you like, my dear. As long as no one's watching."_

_She laughed and they kissed again as the snow swirled quickly outside._

XxX

From the corner where George was currently slumped in an old armchair, he could easily observe the goings on in the bustling Burrow. Ginny passed him in a rush, her long curtain of red hair fanning out behind her as she made her way back into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was clearly attempting not to hurt Fleur. Andromeda Tonks, who had arrived earlier that day, was playing peacemaker among the four women who were attempting to simultaneously wash the dinner dishes and get a head start on the holiday baking.

Just outside, Arthur and Percy Weasley were clearly visible, orchestrating the extensive process of hanging fairy lights on the house, while Charlie lay sprawled across the floor attending to Teddy Tonks—a job he had volunteered for straight away.

George watched Charlie give Teddy the end of a Christmas cracker, pulling until the party favor split apart in a puff of colored smoke and the baby squealed with laughter. A nineteenth century Muggle's pilot cap popped out, which Charlie immediately placed on Teddy's head. The baby, who now sported red hair whenever he visited the Burrow, could not have been happier.

George remained unmoved at the display that had caused his brother to grin ear to ear, and turned his attention back to where his mother was obsessing over the Christmas cake. He knew he ought to be up making himself useful somewhere, perhaps in the backyard, but he felt no desire to be part of the charade that seemed to say "I'm pretending not to think about Fred more than you. Take that." And he knew he could get away with it, because his moodiness had successfully kept most of his family at bay since he'd come home two days ago. There were times that Ginny would throw him the odd reproachful look, but he knew she was really too frightened of what might happen if she approached him to go beyond that. Everyone else exchanged glances and hushed words in his presence, pressed him to eat more, and turned a blind eye when he walked away early from scenes of family cleaning or other holiday preparations.

He didn't care. The truth was that George hated this sort of thing—the forced cheer that no one felt, the glossing over of his mother's frequent bursts out of the room to collapse into tears, and even the fact that no one seemed to be acknowledging the darker turn his own grief had taken during the holiday season. His family couldn't have performed better had they been at the West End, in George's opinion.

There were some signs, of course. There was one less Christmas sock on the mantelpiece that year, one less bulky package under the tree, and one less hand on the famous Weasley clock. Fred's sock now sat on top of the hearth, surrounded by pictures and little tokens of things that were his—probably courtesy of Ginny, George didn't know. These were all fine. It was the fruitless attempts to pretend everything was going to be okay that drove George up the walls.

He was dimly aware that he wasn't handling things well. He remembered those first days after Fred's death—the ones where he had been too overwhelmed even to move out of bed. He'd seemed to exist in a separate sphere, one where he was watching the events of his life play out before him without having a participating role. Those days were hard to grasp now, almost slippery in their memory. The whole time seemed half-forgotten and alien to him, submerged in a sort of watery veil. This was different. George was sulky, moody, and withdrawn—and without any efforts from his better angels to curb himself. He could have helped it if he'd wanted to. He just didn't.

Teddy issued another delighted giggle from his game with Charlie, and George was suddenly reminded of a conversation he and Fred had overheard when they were just first years at Hogwarts. They had been spying on their older brothers in the library, a product of a boring, rainy afternoon with nothing better to do, and Charlie had admitted something to Bill that had made both twins collapse in laughter. What was it? Something sentimental…something about a girl. George probed his memory further. He and Fred had been wearing those stupid matching jumpers in an effort to confuse people…but that didn't matter. No, Charlie had said something about his best mate, which, at the time, had been Nymphadora Tonks.

George felt a sudden curiosity to ask Charlie about it, but he couldn't think of a less appropriate question to ask at the moment then, "Hey Charlie, are you attached to Teddy Tonks because you used to be in love with his mother? You watched her marry another man and then die without ever having told her the truth, didn't you? Can't quite remember, the details are a bit fuzzy. I was spying on you with Fred at the time. You know Fred, our dead brother…"

He was entertaining these morbid thoughts when the front door opened and Bill, Ron, and Harry walked in, stomping their boots and sprinkling the floor with snow. The bells on the door handle jingled.

"Alright, Mum?" Bill called into the kitchen.

"Oh, hello, Bill dear," Molly replied, poking her head out for a moment. "How are the chickens?"

"They're fine, just sealed off some of the holes in the coop so it should keep the cold out. Where's Dad?"

"He and Percy are in the back, trying to hang up the Christmas lights. He'd like your help, and Ron's and Harry's as well, if that's alright."

"Sure thing," Bill replied evenly, making to head through the hallway. He noticed George sitting in the corner and stopped. "You coming with us, George?"

He had an expression on his face that George instantly recognized as both reproachful and expectant, and his direct address caused everyone watching to perk up slightly. Molly looked wearily out from the kitchen, and Ginny set down her mixing spoon. Charlie glanced from Bill to George.

"No, I don't think so." He'd answered quickly and without much hesitation, but he still muttered his reply and kept his gaze on the floor. Twenty years of looking up to his eldest brother didn't go away easily, no matter what his temper was like.

The cold silence emanating from Bill eventually forced George to look up, however.

"Come on, George," he said quietly. "It's a big job, we need your help."

Out of habit, George glanced in his mother's direction for an intervention, but Bill sidestepped him.

"No, look at me." His voice was calm and even, devoid of any command, but still reproving. "I haven't seen you lift a finger to help either of our parents since Fleur and I got here this morning, so let's go. It won't take too long with six of us, it might even be a laugh."

George looked him full in the face now and narrowed his eyes. "I'm not feeling up to it, Bill. I'm having kind of a shit holiday, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"So?" Bill returned, apparently unimpressed with his younger brother's answer. "You think the rest of us are thrilled to be here? Because I can tell you, you're not the only one suffering at the moment, little brother."

"Bill." Arthur Weasley's calm voice interrupted the altercation instantly. He and Percy had come through the back door in the last few seconds, and instantly picked up on what was going on. Percy hovered uncomfortably in the hallway, but Mr. Weasley crossed the room and put his hand on his eldest son's shoulders.

"Leave George alone," he said, kindly but firmly. "We can manage just fine between the five of us. Come on."

Silently, Bill, Ron, and Harry followed Arthur and Percy out the back door and things inside the Burrow quickly recommenced. Bill shot George one last raise of the eyebrows, but George turned his head, feeling slightly too ashamed to meet his brother's eye line.

He was grateful for his father's mercy, but he knew Bill was right. Bill usually was. It wasn't enough to get him to change his attitude, but it was enough to make him avoid his gaze for the rest of the evening. George got up shortly afterward and went to bed, ignoring Charlie's friendly call for him to stay for a game of cards. Disgusted with himself and almost physically overwhelmed with the pain he was experiencing from the holiday, George fell asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow.

XxX

**A/N: Helloooo-oo? I just want to gauge how many of you are actually still reading this story. If you could drop me a quick line (even something as simple as "still here, thanks!"), I would really appreciate it. Cheers!**


	45. Everybody's Fine

**A/N: Okay. Lots of things. First—THANK YOU! It was so nice to see all of your names again, some old & some new. This story is almost four years old now (crazy) & it means a lot that some of you are still sticking with it. Second—this chapter is a bit long and jumpy as it goes from scene to scene, George to Katie quite a bit, so bear with me. And third—minor matter, but if you remember, I'd previously written Fred's grave so it seemed like it was on its own, sort of in the middle of nowhere. To tell the truth, I couldn't stand the thought of leaving him on his own in the snow, so I created a sort of cemetery this time around. So it's not quite perfect in continuity, but hopefully you can overlook that. Thanks again for your reviews—hope to hear from you again on this one if you can spare a second!**

On Christmas Eve, the Burrow was—in a word—_loud. _Since his very earliest years, George couldn't remember a time when there were more people packed in the small house. Eight Weasleys, four Bells, Fleur, Andromeda and Teddy, Liz and Daryl, and Harry were all crowded around the noisy dinner table. To add to the congestion, Ron announced that Hermione would be joining them later in the evening for dessert. That would be 19 people altogether.

(_An even 20 if Fred were here. But don't think about that now. Just don't.) _

A barrage of Christmas gifts now threatened to overwhelm the Weasleys' small tree, and loudly clattering plates cluttered the dining room table. The Burrow was just as full in one sense as it was echoingly empty in another.

George had felt his mood dissipate as the guests started arriving, not because he felt any better, but because he knew it was pointless and impractical to sulk when you were struggling for standing room and could barely breathe. His mother had packed him in between Charlie and Percy for the evening; the former was shouting across the table at Michael Bell, while the latter was saying nothing at all. Sitting complacently next to her brother, Katie sat directly across from George. It may have been good intentions on Molly Weasley's behalf, but it was so loud in the kitchen that George could do nothing more than offer her a half-hearted smile, which she barely managed to return.

It was strange seeing her again. As Ginny had commented before, it had only been a three day separation, but George felt as though it had been a lifetime. That hovering distance between them that he had almost closed in their flat just days ago now felt like a gulf, the size of which was rivaling the English Channel. Not that she felt alien to him, just—rather untouchable.

She looked beautiful, George noted idly. He sometimes forgot she was, amidst the seemingly endless supply of oversized jumpers, ripped jeans, and quidditch tee shirts. She was always pretty, of course, but tonight she was truly beautiful. She'd curled her dark hair, which now hung just a little past her collar bone, and was wearing a tight-fitting red and white striped sweater with rows of little brass buttons at the sleeves. Her blue jeans were dark and looked new, and there was a flush at her cheeks—probably from the heat and bustle of the Burrow—that set off her light eyes. George found himself gazing at her with an odd sort of longing that the distance seemed to make cold.

For himself, he had tried at least somewhat to dress for the occasion. He and Fred had grown shameless with their money and taste for eccentric clothing for a while at the end, but after Fred died, George couldn't make himself look at the dragonskin boots and sharp-cut vests that stayed at the back of his closet. He opted instead for the old plaid button-ups and jackets of their youth. Tonight, however, he made somewhat of a compromise—a collared shirt and a pull-over sweater. He'd put on his flashing red Christmas tie earlier, but abandoned it after saying it clashed with his hair. In reality, he couldn't bear to wear something that contrasted so greatly with how he was feeling. Still, he'd put on a simple black one instead and combed his hair over his missing ear, and looked rather better than he usually did—or at least he thought so.

Not that it mattered.

"How's it going, George, alright?" Michael shouted over the noise. George looked up in surprise, and realized he'd been staring through Katie for the past few minutes.

"Alright," he answered, nodding shortly. "You?"

Michael nodded as well. "Good! Bit nervous for the quidditch final in a few days, though."

George shook his head, surprisingly relieved that someone had thought to bring up something other than Christmas (_Fred_), how he was feeling (_Fred_), and how much he was eating (_Fred_.) (_Fred._) _(Fred)_.

"No way," he returned with a bit more feeling than he had managed to muster over the past couple of days. "Everyone's giving you the edge."

"Oliver Wood, though."

"Wood can keep out goals. He can't catch a snitch."

"Still, I've got to get the job done quick, don't I? Before Puddlemere puts through too many goals for us to properly catch up. Their seeker's rubbish, but so's our keeper."

"Maybe. But don't end the game too quickly, or Alicia won't be properly impressed."

At this, Katie laughed slightly for the first time that evening and George managed a small smile. He opened his mouth to talk to her properly, but her attention was quickly claimed by Ginny, who seemed to want a second opinion on the length of Harry's hair.

Oh well.

(_Fred_.)

(_Fred._) (_Fred._) (_Fred_).

George felt cold all over.

XxX

After dinner was finished and dishes were cleared away, a hush fell over the large group and they began preparations to head out into the cold winter night. Everyone knew where they were headed, but no one said a word. Instead, they divided into small groups of family and friends, each journeying to a different location. Andromeda was taking Teddy to his parents' graves, and Michael was heading off by himself to Artemus's. Elizabeth, who had been to both her father's and her late husband's graves earlier that morning, was staying at the Burrow with Daryl to hold the fort and be there to open the door as they all came back. By far, the largest contingent was headed to visit Fred's tombstone. All of the Weasleys, along with Katie, her parents, and Harry would be walking the short distance to Ottery St. Catchpole's small cemetery in a short while. And Katie was trembling.

George noted this from where he leaned against the kitchen door frame, trying to escape everyone's notice. He didn't want this—this collective trip to his brother's grave on Christmas Eve. It felt perverse to put his feelings on display before his entire family and the others. Not that they hadn't seen it already, of course, but he dreaded it just the same. What if he broke down? What if he did nothing at all?

Katie was getting swallowed in the group of people now gathering at the door. She struggled to put on her bright red pea coat, her fingers shaking too much to properly fasten the buttons. George watched her struggle for composure, could almost feel her shortness of breath and that terrible sensation of being lost in a crowded room. Already bundled up himself, he crossed the floor and took both of her hands in his.

"Here," he murmured setting them gently aside and proceeding to button her coat for her. She looked up at him in surprise and immense relief, and in her closeness, George felt the old familiar ache of wanting her. It was duller now—those first uncomfortable feelings now three years gone at least—but it was still there. He ignored it and finished the last button, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before following Percy out into the night.

XxX

They moved like ghosts across the frozen countryside. No one said a word, each lost in his or her own thoughts, as Arthur quickly located the key to the small gate surrounding the cemetery. Katie leaned on her father's arm, taking in the innumerable curved gray tops of the town's tombstones. The world was quiet here, she thought, with the bodies of hundreds of loved ones sleeping silently underneath the blanket of snow.

She suddenly remembered that Cedric Diggory was buried somewhere nearby. The thought made her shiver. Cedric—the first of the countless Hogwarts students to be killed in the ravage of the second wizarding war. Just a child, really. They all were. She may have been 19 at the time, with a ring on her finger and a promise to keep, but there was no fooling anyone that they knew exactly what they'd be facing back then. They were fresh out of Hogwarts, still laughing at the things adults had long since forgotten; still dreaming the world would change and that things would get better. Now so many of them were gone, and they had suddenly transformed into grownups in the blink of an eye.

They had now reached the Weasleys' small plot at the back of the cemetery. Taking a deep breath, she latched tighter onto her father's arm and they began to climb the hill. She was dimly aware she was still shaking, still struggling to breathe properly. They passed through multiple Prewetts, Molly's brothers Gideon and Fabian for whom Fred and George were named, and several other names Katie didn't recognize.

The familiar sense of dread began to mount and as they reached the crest of the hill and Katie's eyes found _Fred Weasley_, she began to feel physically ill. Nicolas Bell steadied her, but the wash of color forming before her was already taking over. Molly quickly fell into tears and Arthur looked misty-eyed, while the others formed a semi-circle around the grave. Katie's mother began stroking her hair.

_Fred. _

She was moving, then. With her hands trembling and her breathing shallow, Katie's boots crunched in the snow as she took the few steps to the tombstone on her own. She bent to her knees, almost from exhaustion, and hung her head to stare at the words etched in marble. _If I'd never known him, I never would have lived_.

Her tears finally spilled over as she sunk further into the ground. Of all the emotions swirling around in her head, what seemed strongest was the unhappy sense of disconnect between who they were and who they ought to have been. Of how things would have unfolded had they lived in a better world.

Katie raised one gloved hand to wipe away the tears now streaming down her face. _He must be so cold_, she thought absurdly, _with no fire and no friends to come home to now_. Seeing her daughter was now weeping, Meda started forward but Nicolas held her back. Katie slowly unwound the scarf from around her neck and tied it gently around the base of Fred's grave marker.

"Happy Christmas, Fred," she whispered in a tone so low no one heard it. "I still love you. With all of my heart, I still love you."

Then a hand was on her shoulder and she looked up to see Charlie, gentle-faced and offering her a hand up. She accepted and he led her back to the circle.

They all took turns next, approaching the grave and whispering sentiments unheard by the others. Ginny wept, and so did Fleur. All the blood had drained from Ron's face and he was as pale as a sheet. Percy looked ill, Charlie solemn. Bill seemed unable to summon the strength he may have wanted, and Katie could no longer bring herself to look at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

George alone hung immobile at the very end of the pack, and it was the look on his face that made Katie almost as sick inside as she had felt when they first left the Burrow. Because George Weasley looked _lost_. There was no other word for it.

She hadn't seen him in such a state since that first terrible night he'd seen his twin brother lying on the floor, pale and unmoving, and it frightened her. She longed to approach him, to bring him back down to earth the way he had for her, but he seemed past the point of amendment. Wherever George was, it was not here—not in this graveyard, standing with the rest of his family and his friends. _He won't come back with us_, she thought suddenly. _He won't leave his twin. Not tonight._

_Bring him back to us, Fred_, Katie pleaded silently, tears still streaming down her face. _Bring George back_. _Let him go…just for tonight, let him go._

XxX

George was frozen in the moment, unable to register what has happening around him. He stared at Fred's grave in a horrible fixation, and when Bill put his hand on his shoulder, he actually jumped.

"Let's go, son," Arthur said from where he was standing close by Bill, his arm around Molly's shoulders. "It's getting cold."

George opened his mouth, found he couldn't choke out the words he wanted to say, and settled for shaking his head violently.

"Come on, George," said Bill gently. "You'll freeze to death out here. We ought to get back to the house. We'll get you some tea, build a fire…whatever you like."

He shook his head again, and suddenly found his voice.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not…I'm not leaving him. Not here."

"Georgie," Molly pleaded, her eyes tearing up again.

"I can't leave him by himself on Christmas," he said stubbornly, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "I can't. I won't."

He felt them glance at one another and exchange looks. Then Bill tried one more time.

"George—"

George turned and looked his eldest brother in the face and Bill, seeing that he was really suffering, just nodded.

"Alright."

"Be careful, son," Arthur said firmly as Molly launched into a fresh batch of tears. "It's barely above freezing, and you can't stay out here much longer without it being dangerous."

George just nodded and turned back to Fred. He knelt in front of his grave as he had seen Katie do, resting his hand at the top of the tombstone. The others hovered, hesitated, and then began to retreat. Just when he was sure they were all gone, he heard one pair of light footsteps coming back. Katie walked up beside him, held out her wand and muttered _Protego_! A semi-transparent shield appeared over the gravesite, shielding it from the snow. George looked up warily and Katie bent down next to him, brushed his hair away from his face and kissed him gently very near the hole where his ear used to be. She squeezed his hand.

"Come back soon," she whispered, and then got up to leave. Shaking slightly, George turned to watch her go. She met her father, once again took his arm, and soon disappeared where the night sky met the snowy ground. He turned back around.

"Just you and me now, Freddie," he breathed softly, tears beginning to spill over his cheeks.

XxX

Grief. Raw, unadulterated grief was all George felt as he wiped the tears from his face and continued to speak to his brother. He wasn't sure how long he had been there by himself. His body was numb enough that it had probably been a while, but he neither knew nor cared.

"I should have been there," he said in the deepest anguish. "I should have been there with you, right there with you the whole time. This wouldn't have happened. We never got hurt when we were together—did you ever notice that? I lost my ear when you were off with Dad, and when I was off with Lee, you—you…"

But George couldn't finish and collapsed in another fit of tears.

"It's all my fault," he managed. "It's all my fucking fault, and now it's Christmas and you're gone and everyone wants to pretend it's okay, but it's _not._ Who am I supposed to pull crackers with? And what's Mum going to sew on the front of my sweater this year? No need for a 'G' when the 'F' is missing. My fault. All my fault."

He dug his palms into the hollow of his eyes and tried to regain control of himself.

"I just wish…I just wish I knew you were okay. God, Fred, I can't stand the thought of you dying there in pain. It wasn't the way you were meant to go. We were supposed to go together, remember? Standing up straight—no fear, like our uncles did. Now I've never been more scared in my whole life. Just…just come back, can't you? Just once. Just tonight…_please_."

He was aware of the futility and the wretchedness of his request, but he couldn't help himself. Hand shaking, he brought out a small package from his overcoat and set it on the ground in front of the grave marker.

"Catherine wheel," he sniffed, pulling out his wand to light it. "The last of our first batch. We were going to keep it as a memento, remember? For when we were famous?"

He muttered the spell and set the wand to the lighter.

"I think it's better this way."

The elaborate firework zoomed up into the air and burst over the English countryside in dazzling silver and electric blue. The ends fizzed and expanded, rolling the Catherine wheel across the sky before it finally faded, ghostly smoke remaining behind.

"Merry Christmas, Fred," George said dully. "I just…wish I knew you were alright."

He stayed a few moments longer, unable to move from exhaustion, eking out the remainder of his tears. And then, just at the moment he felt ready to collapse on the ground, a boom in the air above him whipped his head skyward. A second Catherine wheel had exploded just where the first had ebbed, and the night sky was once again filled with sparkling colors, this time in red and gold. George stared amazed, mouth open, when one of the sparkling ends disappeared over the horizon and lit up the hills beyond.

"Fred?" he called, a little stronger than his voice had been able to manage in the past few days. "_Fred_?"

George leapt up now and began striding down the opposite side of the hill, away from the Burrow.

"Fred?" he called again loudly. Without hesitating, George descended the hill, disappearing into the vast, frozen moors of the countryside.

XxX

An hour after leaving Fred's gravesite, Katie was sitting on the couch in the Weasleys' sitting room, staring into the fire that was now crackling away on the hearth. The wireless had been switched on, and the room was filled with traditional Christmas carols and other holiday songs. The emotional upheaval of the evening had passed, and the friends and family present were now lounging about pleasantly for the most part, seemingly relieved of some invisible weight that had been pressing on them earlier. Everyone had returned now—everyone except George.

While Charlie and Michael were telling Teddy about the wonders of Father Christmas—rather uselessly, Katie thought, as Teddy couldn't yet speak—and Bill and Fleur held one another in the corner, Katie couldn't be shaken from her post across from the fire place. She stared into the flames, partially unaware of what was going on around her. She was afraid for George, afraid of what might happen to him out there. She had seen the look on his face, and couldn't help but remember how he had been lying prostrate on top of Fred's grave just months earlier, unable to move. And apart from that—rather selfishly—she wished she were the one keeping vigil at the tombstone. She knew that if anyone had that right it was George, but she couldn't help regretting that she hadn't made the trip earlier, on her own. She had so many things she'd wanted to say to Fred beyond the simple "I love you" she'd managed that evening. It sufficed, she supposed, but more than anything she wanted to be alone at the moment. Or alone with Fred, at least. Unaware of what she was doing, she pulled the necklace around her neck out of her sweater and ran her fingers around the engagement band.

While everyone else seemed to accept that the hardest part of the evening was over, Molly Weasley was still flustered. Katie was unable to help overhearing her conversation with her husband as they stood in the corner in front of the famous Weasley clock.

"But look, Arthur," she sobbed, gesturing to George's hand on grandfather clock. "It's says 'mortal peril.' He can't be alright!"

Mr. Weasley soothed his wife and smoothed the hair away from her face. "Molly, you know as well as I do that George's hand has been at 'mortal peril' since…since Fred."

"But—but I'm just so _worried_ about him!"

"I know. I know, but he'll be alright. Everybody will be fine, trust me."

Katie glanced briefly at the clock and looked away. It made her stomach turn.

_Come on, Fred_, she pleaded once more. _Bring him back_.

XxX

"_Fred_!" George called desperately for what felt like the thousandth time. He was really beginning to feel the effects of the cold now; the lower half of his body was completely numb. Still, he trudged through the snow in desperate hopes of finding some other sign of his twin brother.

He was weakly aware that he was lost, although his mind wouldn't allow him to say the word. He knew very well that going out into the moors at night was tantamount to a death sentence—his father had nearly killed him and Fred once when they set off for an "adventure" when they were ten—but he couldn't help himself. That firework hadn't been set off by just anyone. It was Fred answering his call, he was sure of it. Which meant Fred had to be here somewhere.

"Fred, where are you?"

Despite the volume of his yells, George's voice felt thin in the cold air as the sound carried directly upward and evaporated in the night sky. He felt tears both of cold and of frustration prick at his eyes. He had to have been out here searching for at least an hour. Maybe Fred wasn't here, after all.

_But why would he send him such a clear signal that he was? _Besides, George could feel him. He was in the air somewhere—just a little out of reach.

"FRED!" he shouted for the last time before collapsing onto the ground. He could feel the sharp wind whirl around him and sense the oppressing stillness of the night sky as it bore down on him.

_You're going to freeze out here, _a small voice inside his head told him. _You're going to freeze to death on Christmas Eve, searching for your dead brother._

Maybe it's not such a bad way to go, George morbidly answered his conscience. There's not much left to stay here for anyway. Fred didn't die the way he was supposed to. Why should I?

_Fair enough. Give up, then._

Maybe I will.

_So do it, then._

…but Fred probably wouldn't be too happy to see me if that's the way I choose to go.

_Too late. You're in the middle of a moor, bright one. Let's see you apparate now._

Don't care. I'll make it.

George stood up shakily, attempting to regain his balance, but almost immediately fell back down to the ground. Crying out for help now, rather than fantasy, he shouted one more time.

"_FRED!_"

The ground and the snow swirling around him, George shielded his eyes and felt himself tumbling, falling through the air. Just at the moment he felt he could no longer stand the tumultuous sensation, he fell with a thud onto his back in a familiar location.

He opened one eye first, then the other. Light flooded into his senses—a warm, glowing light from the Burrow. Gingerly, George sat up and stared in amazement at the misshapen house. His mouth fell open.

"Fred…"

His brother had saved him. It was unbelievable—incredulous, even—but George was sure it was true. And as he stared at the ground beneath him, he had another sign. A beautiful red poinsettia flower—the mark of Christmas—sprouted out from beneath the snow and blossomed in front of him. George looked up and through the window of the Burrow. His family was crowded around the fireplace, some dancing, some embracing. But Katie was seated off by herself, hair hanging in front of her face, not really there. He glanced down at the flower and suddenly knew what it was for.

Feeling warmer inside than he had for months, George scooped it up and approached the house. Now it was time to rescue someone else.

XxX

Just as Mrs. Weasley appeared to be beyond the reach of her husband, George walked through the back door. Katie snapped up from her torpor and stared in wonder at him as he crossed the room with a cautious smile and held out a large, red poinsettia.

"George, what on earth-?"

"Take it," he smiled. "It's from Fred."

Katie felt a rush of shock course through her body as she stared at her friend incredulously, and then dropped her gaze to the flower. It was beautiful and warm and living—not something that could have been conjured from a wand. She took it from him and instantly knew that he was right. Tears pricked her eyes as she looked back up at him, but George was still grinning. He held out his hand.

"Come on, Kay," he said gently. "Let's have a dance, shall we?"

Still astonished, she was unable to do anything other than nod mutely and set the poinsettia down as she slipped her hand into his. It was strangely warm. George pulled her up and close to him as he spun her around a little playfully—out and back in.

"Mum, George is back," Ginny said, getting up from the floor where she sat with Harry. From over the top of George's shoulder, she saw Mrs. Weasley start, her eyes darting across the room for her missing son.

"Where? _Where_?"

"There," Mr. Weasley said, pointing and smiling. "See? I told you."

He took his wife back in his arms and began swaying with her to the rhythm of the slow music now playing out of the wireless.

"Everybody's fine," he murmured into her ear. "Everybody's fine."

Katie smiled, gazing up at George. He looked down at her and grinned.

"What?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I like that," she said quietly. "Everybody's fine."

He nodded, pulling her in tighter.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we will be."

XxX


	46. Better Than What Came Before

**A/N: Hello, loves. I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger I'm leaving you with here.**

_Oh, I do believe_

_In all the things you say_

_What comes is better_

_Than what came before—Cat Power_

As the rest of the party chatted, laughed or—in Michael and Andromeda Tonks' case—playfully waltzed about the sitting room, Katie sat at the edge of the couch holding her poinsettia. She had tired easily from her short dance with George, physically drained from the emotional demands of the day. George had seemed to sense this and led her over quietly to rest for a moment. Now she considered the flower, running her fingers over its soft petals. Its warmth, which had initially surprised her, now appeared to be departing. It didn't seem to leave her feeling cold, however—at least not the sort of bone deep, soul-numbing cold that had caused her to shiver so many times over the past few days. The warmth in which it had blossomed was simply leaving. The flower itself was still there. Tangible. Real.

George sat beside her. He was talking quietly to Ginny and the recently-arrived Hermione, and was turned slightly away from her. Still, Katie knew he was there for her benefit. He seemed to be standing guard over her in an odd, protective sort of way. As she stared at her poinsettia and listened to the even conversation George was having with his sister, she marveled at the easy capability he suddenly seemed to possess. This was, after all, the man who could barely stand on his feet just a few short hours before. Now, there seemed to be a calm sort of acceptance about him that surprised her. There was still the old vulnerability, but he seemed less manic, less lost. It had to have something to do with what happened after they had all left the cemetery—but she couldn't make herself think about that now. It had been all her battered heart could manage to simply get through that visit. Trying to comprehend something that had happened between Fred and George—something that had to have defied natural law—wasn't something she could handle at the moment.

Instead, she continued to gaze at the poinsettia and try to make peace herself.

After a moment or two, Mr. Weasley suddenly surprised the group by standing up before them. He raised his hand to gain all of their attention, and then fell silent. Katie thought he looked as though he had only half formed his words before deciding to speak. She considered him warily, still holding her flower, as he struggled for the right way to begin. Mrs. Weasley watched him from the corner with a tired, concerned expression on her face. Katie glanced sideways at George, but his look was blank and unreadable.

Finally, the Weasley family patriarch began.

"I just wanted to say a couple of things while you're all here before we start dessert," he said. His voice was calm and even, but his eyes still lingered somewhat on the floor. "Which I have to say looks excellent, by the way, Molly."

Mrs. Weasley smiled but said nothing. Her husband cleared his throat and started again.

"I just wanted to say thank you for joining us here this year. It's been a hard year for all of us."

As he said this, his eyes began to glisten slightly with tears as he finally looked about the room.

"Not a single person in this room hasn't lost someone. Some of us, more than one someone. They've been our parents and our grandparents, our husbands and our wives. They've been our daughters and our…our sons. They've been our sisters and our brothers. Sometimes brothers closer than anyone on the outside can understand."

He smiled weakly at George, whose eyes had once again begun to shine. George swallowed silently.

"And they've been our friends," Mr. Weasley finished. "Not one of us here that hasn't lost someone."

He paused again as everyone in the room considered his words. Katie stared stolidly down at her poinsettia, but in her mind there was all too clearly her mother and Aunt Elizabeth, who had lost their father. And Liz had lost her husband, too. There was Andromeda Tonks who had seen her husband, daughter, and son-in-law all killed in battle. Teddy, who would never know his parents, and Harry, who had never known his. And of course, there was the stalwart Weasley family still reeling from the loss of one of its brightest members. The magnitude of loss in the room was staggering. When she looked up again, however, Mr. Weasley was smiling through his tears.

"Loss is confusing," he said quietly. "It's a path that can lead to so many different outcomes. It can scar us, and it can hurt us, but it can't claim us unless we allow it to. We have all suffered loss…but we're all still here. It's not the ending chapter in our lives. There is so much to live for and so much happiness, love, and joy in the world. It's Christmas Eve tonight, and here we all are together. We have a chance to make this holiday about more than our personal pain—we can make it about the next chapter in our lives. And I think we should take it. Together."

He nodded briefly as a way of ending this short speech. At first, no one said anything except for Molly Weasley, who quickly crossed the room in order to embrace her husband. They stood there holding one another as everyone looked on, lost in their own musings. Then Katie felt the couch cushion beside her shift as George stood up and walked over to his parents. He put his arms around both of them and at that moment, the remainder of the room found their feet. They soon became one large, weeping unit, holding onto one another as the Christmas lights glistened from the outside.

XxX

"Charlie was the best Quidditch player in our family, hands down," Ginny said to the small group now gathered around the fireplace. "I'd love to argue my own case, but he was just too good—_fantastic _Seeker. Gryffindor never lost with him."

The Weasley girl was having a friendly argument with Ron and George over who was the best Quidditch player in the family. Harry, Hermione and Katie listened on, the former two looking greatly bemused by the topic of conversation. The rest of the room was sitting and standing around casually in both the kitchen and the drawing room, eating the Christmas cake and custard Molly Weasley had prepared. George sat on the loveseat surveying his younger siblings and their friends, his arm wrapped tightly around Katie's shoulders. She was curled up slightly more than she was usually when they sat together, and leaned more closely to George. She seemed tired and a little distant, but he could hardly expect anything else, and besides, she didn't look unhappy. Mostly, he was grateful for her nearness. It helped.

Shaking his head at Ginny's comment, he rolled his eyes.

"Seekers get all the attention," he said dismissively. "What Fred and I did was ten times harder. And we were ten times better, too. Those dolts on the other House teams never saw us coming, did they? The Bludgers hardly ever did either, come to that. We were stealthy, Fred and I. Charlie just went for the glory."

"Right, talk about subtlety coming from someone whose job it was to knock other people out cold," Ron jabbed, causing Hermione to giggle.

"You could have done that job well enough yourself," Katie suddenly said. "Nearly bloody killed me with that Quaffle to the face in practice."

Ron flushed a deep red as the others hooted in laughter. George turned to grin at her and she responded with shake of the head.

"Don't you give me that," she teased. "Immediately afterward, you and Fred gave me the wrong end of a Nosebleed Nougat and I spent the rest of the day in the Hospital Wing. Your family clearly has some kind of vicious death wish for me."

"Now you know why you were invited here," George said smoothly, removing his arm from her shoulders. "Ginny, go get the prepared materials. No use pretending now."

She grinned back at him and laughed in her pleasant way. He couldn't help but notice how the firelight shined off of her dark hair and when her hand brushed against his, he shivered just slightly. He cursed himself mentally. _Really, tonight? Couldn't he keep it together tonight of all nights? Put it to bed, George. Just forget it._

But Katie leaned her head against his shoulder, took his hand, and wrapped her fingers around his, and he was lost. He hesitated, telling himself he ought to pull away (_she couldn't know what she was doing to him_), and then turned to laugh at something Hermione had said that he hadn't quite heard.

He couldn't do it. He'd fought it too long—maybe tonight he wouldn't do the honorable thing. In fact, maybe tonight, he'd just—

XxX

"George, are you alright?" Katie asked, sitting up slightly. The younger group had just floated off into the kitchen, dishes in hand.

George looked slightly taken off guard. He took a moment to compose his face and then nodded, unable to quite fully meet her gaze. "Yeah, Kates, I'm fine. I told you—I'm okay now."

"Your hands are cold."

"Are they?" he asked, seeming slightly uncomfortable. He ran his free hand through his hair. "There must be a draft or something..."

"George, you're shaking."

She was really quite concerned now, and peered into his averted eyes. He seemed to be trying to keep them focused straight ahead, but she caught him glance surreptitiously down at their entwined fingers and she suddenly felt deeply embarrassed. _It wasn't appropriate to do that anymore, was it_? She had grown so used to reaching out for George's hand in comfort or distress, so accustomed to the gesture that she hadn't realized the time had probably passed for it to be considered acceptable. It had always felt like a lifeline to her, but he obviously felt deeply uncomfortable with it now.

"I'm sorry," she blushed instantly, moving away and attempting to withdraw her hand. George gripped it more tightly, however, and shook his head.

"No," he said with a sudden intensity that surprised her. "No, it's not that."

He stared at her seriously, and Katie watched his expression change from one of urgency to one slightly more hesitant.

"Katie—"

But at that moment, someone tapped their fork against their glass and the whole room looked up. Katie turned to find a grinning Elizabeth calling for attention and holding tightly to Daryl's arm. In her surprise, she dropped George's hand and turned fully to face the couple.

"Can I have everyone's attention for just a second?" Liz called. She looked spritely and beaming compared to the solemn figure she presented just hours ago. "Just for a second…"

The room quieted down and she began, looking at Daryl momentarily before she spoke.

"We were going to wait to announce this until after Christmas," she said hesitantly. "But Arthur's speech was just so lovely, and seeing you all here together made me think that maybe this is the right time."

Katie raised her eyebrows, hardly knowing what to expect. She met Michael's gaze from across the room and he shrugged his shoulders to indicate that he was just as lost as she was. Their aunt plunged forward again.

"Daryl has asked me to marry him," she said in a voice that barely contained her excitement. Katie and her mother gasped; Nicolas smiled and Michael laughed outright, which made Liz laugh a little as well.

"I know," she said, grinning now. "It seems so sudden, but we've actually been talking about it for a while, and three days ago, we made it official."

"I realize you must think I'm crazy, but I really do love this woman," Daryl grinned. "And I can't wait to take her back to Chicago with me."

Katie reeled, her stomach dropping through the floor. _Back to Chicago?_

Liz bit her lip, obviously aware of the indelicacy of the announcement, and tried to smooth it over.

"Yes," she said slowly. "After we marry, I'm moving with Daryl to America. He's setting up a minor Quidditch league in the States, and well…I want to go."

She smiled hesitantly and placed her arm around Dayrl's waist. Katie's jaw dropped. There was some mild applause and chatter from the rest of the room, but the real reaction to the news came from Meda Bell, who nearly dropped her glass of egg nog.

"Have you lost your mind?" she sputtered loudly. All other voices cut out now and Katie watched in horror as her mother took her younger sister to task. "You've known this man, what, _four months_?"

"Meda—"

"And you're moving out of the country? Liz, your family is _here_!"

"My family hasn't been here for a long time," Elizabeth answered quietly, but calmly. "First Gareth was killed, then Dad…"

"But what about _us_?"

"Annie," Nicolas put in gently, stepping between them. "Annie, let's calm down for a minute."

"Don't 'Annie' me! And how can I calm down? Didn't you just hear what your sister-in-law said?"

The rest of the room looked away in discomfort. Mrs. Weasley began gathering the remainder of the dessert dishes and hummed loudly as she took them to the kitchen. Hermione was blushing visibly.

Nicolas sighed and launched into his characteristic understatement. "Well if you insist on shouting, dear, maybe you could do it outside. I think the rest of the party is still trying to have a pleasant time…"

Mrs. Bell glared daggers at her husband, but took the advice and stalked out the back door. Elizabeth frowned and followed her.

There was relative silence in the room until Nicolas began talking very loudly with Daryl, and the natural volume of the party slowly returned and people began moving around again.

Katie just stared at the ground. She was horrified with her family, humiliated by the display. _On Christmas Eve, too. Just when it seemed like the drama for the evening was over_…She had almost forgotten she was sitting next to George, when the redhead himself put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said quietly in what he clearly thought was a bracing voice. "It wouldn't be Christmas without a family row, would it?"

He smiled encouragingly, but Katie just looked away. She felt sick inside.

George lingered for a moment, and then rubbed her shoulder gently before getting up and walking toward the kitchen. Almost reflexively, she turned to watch him go. Mrs. Weasley was struggling to place a batch of freshly washed dishes onto the top shelf of one of the many cupboards mounted on the Burrow's kitchen wall. George, who towered over his mother, cut in and took over. She smiled with what was obviously immense pleasure and reached up to cup her son's face, saying something too quietly and too far away for Katie to hear before she kissed him on the cheek. George blushed and batted her away, but Molly Weasley was clearly touched by the gesture. Katie blinked and looked away, feeling oddly affected by the scene.

Her reverie was broken as her brother walked over and replaced George's presence on the loveseat next to her. Michael threw an arm around his little sister and sighed.

"I know," Katie murmured.

He looked at her seriously. "You alright?"

She considered this briefly, and then nodded. "I guess so," she said, still feeling a little confused. "I mean, I don't know what to think about Aunt Liz and Daryl…but Godric, did our mother really have to-?"

"I know."

Katie sighed.

"I don't know," she continued. "It's just this whole night…it's hard anyway, and then our family goes and has a row in someone else's house and—"

"You're right, you two had better leave immediately," a voice said from behind them. Katie turned, caught off guard, as Charlie leaned against the loveseat and observed the two siblings. He grinned ruefully.

"You think our family is remotely functional right now?" he continued. "Look around you, Katie, my mother invited half the wizarding world to our house so we wouldn't have to spend the holidays alone. Not that sheer numbers have really helped to reduce the feeling…"

She frowned. "At least when one of you speaks, it leads to general feelings of goodwill. My aunt's speech led to a row."

Charlie laughed and Michael joined in, in spite of himself. Katie looked at the pair of them and then sighed.

"It's okay, Kates, really," Charlie said bracingly. "Out of everything that's gone on tonight, Liz's surprise wedding announcement is going to end up being one of the least memorable. George's near-death stunt will win top prize, trust me."

"How is your little brother?" Michael asked now, turning his gaze to the kitchen. Charlie looked over to where George was now standing by the sink, helping his mother finish washing the last of the dishes. Bill, who had apparently just wandered in, gave George an approving look and placed a hand on his shoulder. George quickly looked away, as though embarrassed by the gesture.

Charlie frowned. "The sooner George realizes it's not just his burden, the better it will be for him," he said quietly. "Of course, he's having a harder time of it than anyone. He's had a rough last couple of days…barely spoken two words together. And Bill's been on his case about his mood a bit, which hasn't really helped. He does seem a lot better tonight, though. Thankfully…It hurts to see him that way."

"And how are you?" Katie couldn't help but asking, as Charlie's voice grew thinner. He looked down at her now, eyes shining slightly.

"Some days are better than others," he smiled. He tugged on her hair affectionately. "Now let's see if we can't fit three people on this loveseat, eh?"

She budged over and tried to laugh, but found her eyes wandering back to George, who was now drying a pot by hand. He looked up at her and smiled wanly, a brave effort from someone who had reached the point of exhaustion and then passed it. It broke her heart for some reason she couldn't explain—like a love letter she'd picked up off of the ground and then read somewhere in private. It was like discovering something a little too intimate, maybe. But she smiled back anyway, kept from looking deeper by the sudden strange impression that there was something she was missing.

XxX

Katie wasn't aware of the passing time, though she felt instinctively that it was late. More than half the party had gone to bed already, her parents having led the pack. Meda Bell and Elizabeth Garibaldi had reentered the house soon after they had left it, red-faced from the cold and looking solemn. Each sister had gone their separate way, and Meda had led Nicolas up to where they were staying in Percy's old bedroom soon afterward. Katie resisted their entreaties of going to bed herself and remained where she was, staring at the fire and leaning against the old flannel sofa.

She had also remained after Andromeda had drifted off to bed, saying she needed to put Teddy down. She had kept vigil while Ron bid Hermione good night and after Ginny and Harry parted ways. She sat through Elizabeth and Daryl's quiet attempts to smooth over the explosion their earlier announcement had caused, and experienced only minor irritation when Fleur shook her magnificent blonde hair out and announced she was ready for bed.

One by one, they all drifted off and disappeared up the stairs, an anticlimactic end to a pain-riddled day. Soon, it was just Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on the loveseat, George brooding in his corner armchair, and Katie staring into the fireplace with Michael by her side. The Weasley parents seemed hesitant and unwilling to allow their most troubled son to remain up on his own, and Michael appeared to feel the same about his sister, because all three of them kept casting worried glances at the two in question.

Finally, Molly tentatively suggested that she was getting tired. George remained motionless as though he hadn't heard the statement, but Arthur nodded quietly.

"I'll join you in a minute, Mollywobbles," he said in a low voice. "I think I'll just go out and check on the chickens before bed."

"But Bill said they'd patched up all of the holes—"

Arthur smiled weakly. "Just a moment alone, dear."

His wife looked fretful, but eventually acquiesced. He kissed her gently on the forehead and soon, Mrs. Weasley too had disappeared up the stairs. Arthur carefully wrapped himself in his greatcoat, letting in a gust of cold winter air as he stepped outside. The wind made Michael stir, glancing from the door, to Katie, to George and then back again, but neither of them seemed aware that there were other people in the room.

For herself, Katie was lost in thought. She wondered, in a rather detached way, how her impulsive, sentimental aunt—who had had far more Christmases with Gareth than she'd had with Fred—was able to forget them all and announce her engagement to another man on the very night that seemed to most inspire nostalgia. She was far from condemning the act as her mother had done, but still, she wondered. She was past the point of clinging fatally to memories, but she found it difficult to move forward. She hovered in the in-between—the gray space separating past and present. How could her aunt be so certain that things would ever be as good as they once were?

Unnoticed by Katie, snow continued to fall in flurries around the Burrow as the hour grew later. Noises around the house died down as well, and soon it was only the hum of the wireless that stood out in the quiet living room. It wasn't an unpleasant silence—rather more like the world was going to sleep.

With a full stomach and the warmth of the fire, Michael began to feel his eyelids droop. He knew he wasn't going to be able to fight sleep much longer, but he didn't like the idea of leaving his sister awake on her own. He was on the verge of reaching out to put his hand on her shoulder and tell her to go to bed, but stopped when he noticed that George wasn't staring into the fireplace from the corner like he thought, but rather at Katie.

George was regarding her thoughtfully, almost in meditation. It was a look Michael couldn't quite put his finger on, though he felt certain he had seen it before. It left him feeling strangely like an intruder, and as sleep continued to fight for his control, he eventually gave in. Telling himself that at least Katie wasn't alone, he nudged her slightly from her reverie.

"Hey," he said in a low voice, taking her arm. "I'm going to bed. Are you going to be alright here?"

She turned to face him and nodded quietly. "Of course," she muttered. "Thanks, Michael."

He sighed and gave her a hug. "Sweet dreams, Kates. You did good today."

She smiled a little and watched him go before turning back to face the hearth. Michael cast one more look at George before disappearing up the stairs. He was still looking at Katie.

Minutes slipped past and suddenly the old grandfather clock in the corner chimed out the hour. Katie looked up, counting the gongs until they reached twelve. Midnight—it really was Christmas then. She exhaled slowly and got up, walking over gingerly to the window that looked out onto the frozen landscape of the English countryside. Katie crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, vaguely admiring the way the red and white of the Burrow's Christmas lights shone against the flakes of snow.

Aware of George's presence in the room, it came to no surprise to her when she heard quiet footsteps approach and then felt his arms circling around her from behind. The tall redhead leaned over to rest his chin against her shoulder, and Katie reached up and took both of his hands.

"Merry Christmas, George," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Katie."

His voice was so low, she wouldn't have heard it if his head weren't right next to her ear. There was something in it—some slight tone perhaps—that struck her as sounding different. She suddenly remembered that he had almost said something to her earlier…something that sounded like it may have been important.

"George," she began, turning around to face him. "You were going to—"

She was stopped however, by the way his hands fell to the small of her back and the look in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. She unexpectedly felt conscious of their closeness and how her hands had naturally come to rest against his chest. His heart was beating below a little quickly—perhaps too quickly.

Katie looked back up into his face, but his expression was somber and indiscernible. Dismissing her strangeness, she tried again.

"You were going to tell me something earlier," she said quietly. "Before Aunt Liz got up."

To her slight relief, George's expression shifted into one she recognized—hesitation and slight vulnerability.

"I don't remember what it was," he said, looking away. "It must not have been important."

"Yes it was," she pressed, though she was feeling increasingly unsure if she wanted to hear whatever he had been about to say. "I could tell by your voice. I can tell now."

He looked back at her, his mouth falling open slightly in uncertainty.

"I just—"

He shook his head, closed his eyes and then opened them again; he looked over her face searchingly. The static on the wireless was interrupted as the soft, half fading signal of a low melody emerged, and Katie suddenly recognized the look behind his eyes and the shift in tone between them. She could feel it in the heavy air pressing around them. She began to shake just slightly.

And then they were leaning toward one another, inch by inch, eyes shifting downward. George's hold on her waist tightened. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then his lips were on hers.

A white hot flash of something instantly ran through her body and left goosebumps on her skin. They kissed—slowly, but deliberately—and a second later they parted once more.

As Katie stood there, hovering in the millimeters of distance between them, her last conscious thought occurred: If she were to do anything other than back away immediately, this would leave the realm of acceptability. Right now, she could pass this off as a momentary slip, a slight error of judgment. But if she were to stay, even a half second longer where she was, she would lose that right. She would be actually kissing George Weasley.

And then she was.

Katie was unsure who made the decisive movement—maybe they both had. George raised one hand to cup the side of her face, thumb tucked away behind her ear, and their lips met once more. Her knees went slightly weak at the gentleness of his touch. She slipped her arm around the back of his neck, and George deepened the kiss, pressing her to him tightly. Katie thought nothing and felt nothing identifiable other than the fact that her heart was about to burst with whatever it was. His familiar, comforting scent consumed her. She suddenly realized it had been hanging over their heads for weeks, even months maybe, without her being able to recognize it. And it seemed _right_.

After a few more moments of this, George's tongue pressed up against her lips and Katie allowed him in. She was surprised to hear a small moan escape her, and was abruptly very conscious of the near perfect silence of the house. This only seemed to drive George further, however, and she was locked in place by the tightness of his grip on her waist. They continued, kissing far more deeply, quickly, urgently now. Her hands reached up and tangled themselves in his hair. The faint music still playing on the wireless began to swell, and Katie's ears started to ring.

By the time either of them heard the front door open and someone come into the living room, it was too late. Katie heard the sounds, but failed to register what they meant until she felt George tense up. Within nanoseconds, the two pulled away from each other. Gasping for breath both from the lack of oxygen and the surprise she felt, Katie whipped her head around to find Arthur Weasley standing in the foyer staring at the pair of them.

And then her stomach fell through the floor.

XxX


	47. On Christmas Morning

**A/N: Hello, friends. Yes, I've been absent for more than three months. Yes, I suck. Yes, you can hate me. And actually, this next chapter isn't even complete. It's about half of the material that I wanted to cover in my next update, but because it's been so long and because so many of you have especially requested something new, I posted what I've got so far. So if it seems like more of an incomplete thought than a well-rounded chapter, that's why. I promise I'll do my best to post the more interesting stuff soon…maybe a blank word document will help. You're all lovely and I adore you to pieces.**

_The winter breeze stung Katie's cheeks and made her eyes water, but still she trudged onward, willing the skates on her feet to move a bit more gracefully than the steady but shaky shuffle they were currently managing. It was the first weekend the Black Lake had frozen over and as tradition, the six seventh year friends were donning skates and criss-crossing all over the solid ice. Strictly speaking, students weren't allowed to be near the lake in the winter as it was considered dangerous, but Fred and George Weasley had never met with a rule they didn't want to break. And with Dolores Umbridge effectively running Hogwarts this year, the twins had been scarcely less eager to meet with tradition._

_Several other students had joined them, and were now creating a one-way loop around the lake. Even after all her years at Hogwarts, Katie still hadn't managed to learn to skate properly. The others did well—Lee and Angelina had declared a rare truce and were supporting one another as they maintained a decent speed. Alicia, long known to be the most graceful of the girls, was doing double axles to please the eager second year onlookers. And the twins were entertaining the lot of them with their enchanting but exhausting charm by speeding around the lake as fast as they could and pushing down unwary skaters. They'd already managed to peg Katie several times simply by giving her the gentlest of shoves. They always skated off laughing._

_Determined not to be caught unaware by her boyfriend and his brother again, Katie moved over to the center of the lake where the crowd of skaters was thickest. The twins were undeterred, however, and changed course to find her._

"_Learn to skate, Katie Kate!" Fred rhymed obnoxiously, his freckled, grinning face passing in a flash as he tapped her on the shoulder. Katie whirled around to block him and was thrown off balance just before George followed closely behind and pushed her shoulder lightly. She fell spectacularly to the ground—and then through the ice._

_She hadn't realized she standing near a dangerously thin area until it was too late. Katie hit the ice hard and as others backed quickly away, she found herself submerged in water so cold she couldn't think straight. The freezing water stabbed her like knives and as she opened her mouth to scream out, she swallowed a large gulp of it. She flailed wildly, but heard nothing. It was silent down here, and eerie._

_What felt like a lifetime down below was merely a few seconds above the water. Just as confusion set in and she began to be unaware of what way was up, someone else plunged into the icy water and pulled her out. _

_Coughing up water and gasping for air, it was several seconds before Katie regained any sense of what was around her. She fumbled blindly for her savior as the others stared on in shock, and wrapped the coat he was so quick to offer around her shoulders. It wasn't until Fred rushed up to her that Katie turned around and realized the person who had pulled her out of the water was George. His face was terrified and drained off all color, and he looked almost as wet as she was. He was breathing heavily, shoulders shaking. Confused, she turned back to Fred, who dropped to his knees beside her and roughly pulled her into a tight hug._

_But it was George—George who had been looking._

XxX

Katie snapped awake from her fevered sleep to more darkness. She jerked forward from the small trundle bed until her eyes adjusted to the space and she remembered she was in Ginny's room. Relieved and with her proper memories quickly assimilating, she began to breathe more slowly and collapsed again onto her pillow.

Absentmindedly, she let go of the ring on the necklace she had been clutching and brought her fingers up to her lips. Trembling slightly, she realized they were still on fire.

Katie stared at the ceiling for a few moments longer, listened to Ginny's slow breathing, and closed her eyes again.

XxX

When she woke next, it was the doing of quite a different Weasley.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" Ginny shouted up the stairwell from where she stood in her doorway. "Time to get up, lay abouts! Oh, I'm sorry, Katie…" she added in a quieter tone when the other girl suddenly jolted in her trundle bed. "I forgot you were in here."

"S'okay," Katie mumbled, pulling off her covers. "I've shared a room with Angelina, I'm used to it."

Ginny blanched a little, but continued on.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "I was going to let you have a lie in after you didn't come to bed until so late. What was that…one thirty? Two? I heard you come in."

"Don't really remember," she said quickly. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"Doesn't bother me. I've put up with worse in this house, believe me. But what were you doing up so late down there?"

Katie could feel color rise in her cheeks and attempted to remain calm and unaffected. "Nothing," she said quickly. "I think I just dozed off in front of the fire, is all."

She waited on tenterhooks as Ginny continued to consider her and then drew breath again once she nodded. The younger girl wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her waist and stared at the floor for a moment.

"Listen," she said in a quieter voice as she turned away from the door frame. "Did you happen to see if George made it to bed alright? I don't think he'd do something stupid again, but…I just worry sometimes, still."

Katie's pulse resumed its faster pace and she tried to ignore the words "something stupid" as she made her reply with as placid a face as she could muster.

"I think he did…in fact, yeah. I remember it now. He went up right after—right after your dad, actually."

"Really?" she smiled brightly. "Oh, I'm so glad. Good. Hey, are you sure you're alright? You're really red. You look like you're burning up."

"I'm fine!" Katie yelped, dodging Ginny's attempts to put her hand against her forehead. "Hey, why don't you get me a towel? I'd like to shower before I come down."

"Really?" Ginny wrinkled her nose. "But it's Christmas morning. Everyone goes down in pajamas."

"I know. I just want to…" _To what? Delay it? Find a method of escaping The Burrow while everyone else was opening presents?_

"Whatever," the Weasley girl cut in. "Everything's in the second door to your right. Just make sure you get downstairs before Bill and Charlie, or they'll never be any breakfast left for you…"

Eager to get Ginny out of the room and to divert her attention elsewhere, Katie made no objection. She pulled on a pair of slippers and a knit jumper over her head, and escaped into the bathroom as others were making their way downstairs. When Ginny rounded the corner in a flash of red hair, she breathed out a sigh of relief and shut the door.

Alone, Katie closed her eyes and groaned. Faced with the cold truth of her situation, she realized there was no escaping; there was only delaying the moment she had to face everything. If she spent too long up here, someone was sure to come and find her. If she ran away, they would probably think her suicidal. She was stuck—alone with emotions she couldn't sort out and the fresh memory of actions she couldn't explain. As she stepped into the shower and yanked on the faucet, she tried to make sense of everything that had happened last night.

She had kissed George. She had kissed George, and she hadn't done so in a particularly innocent manner. If Arthur had not stepped in at that exact moment…but then, she didn't want to think about that either. The only thing she could assimilate—the only real _fact _in the entire situation—was that it had been a long time coming. She understood that now. Whether George had been as unconscious to this as she had, she didn't know. How he felt about it, how _she _felt about it, were equally lost to her. The only thing she really knew was that it wasn't an accident. There had been a lot of things leading up to that kiss: grief, confusion, friendship, affection, the subtle improprieties they had indulged in from the beginning (when did she decide it was okay to share his bed?); they all helped to lay the foundation for some physical slip-up. It was what Angelina had predicted from the start. But there was no roadmap for where to go now.

Deciding she could no longer put off the inevitable, Katie shut the water off and dressed in her new Christmas jumper and tight-fitting jeans. She fixed her hair and makeup with rather more care than usual and eventually stepped out into the hallway. There was time for one more deep breath, and then she started down the stairs.

Two floors down, the smells of Christmas breakfast began wafting upward and she had just managed to convince herself that the day had to have at least _one _bright spot when a door opened and startled her. Katie's foot caught on the last step and she tumbled forward into someone's arms.

"George!" she sputtered in extreme discomfort. He had caught her by the wrists and though she attempted to pull away, she found she couldn't help herself from staring up at him. He had very obviously just gotten showered and dressed—there were droplets of water still clinging to his ginger hair. George looked at her cautiously, and in a moment Katie realized he hadn't gotten a single bit of sleep the night before. She bit her lip in guilt.

In his tired face, she saw the events of the night before replay themselves. Arthur Weasley had just stood there, frozen to the spot, staring between Katie and his son. It wasn't until the night breeze flew in and made the flames in the fireplace flicker that he noticed he'd left the door open. He had stammered, looked down at his feet, and finally turned around slowly to close it. He shut the door gently, pushing back the wind and snow, and then turned back around.

During this small moment of time, Katie had chanced a glance at George. The expression on his face almost perfectly mirrored his father's, except the shock had been replaced by what looked like just a twinge of very deeply felt guilt.

Mr. Weasley's mouth had fallen open just slightly at this point. Katie and George had drifted significantly apart, but still, he looked between them both before speaking.

"I, er…well, yes. Goodnight, then."

He shifted his gaze straight forward, eyes fixated on the floor, and then strode across the living room to the stairs in under three seconds. Katie's entire body felt numb and her mind was utterly blank. Unable to do anything else, she turned, shaking, back to George.

He looked worse than she felt. In a wild moment, she actually wondered if he was going to be physically ill, but instead he just stumbled a few more feet backward, ran his hand roughly through his hair, and turned around a couple of times. George breathed irregularly, opening his mouth and shutting it again. He paced the floor, paused to lean against the mantle, and then paced again. Katie stood watching him, waiting for him to say something—_anything_.

He hadn't, however. Finally seeming to give up, he looked warily up at Katie for a few moments and then shook his head, taking off down the hallway and disappearing up the stairs after his father.

That was all Katie remembered. What she did next and how she eventually got into bed all seemed like a blur to her. Now, the only thing she was aware of was how his kiss suddenly seemed to burn again on her lips, and the hotness she felt in her cheeks.

George looked at her in a way she couldn't quite read, but defenselessness was clearly marked in his features.

"Katie, I—" he began in a low voice.

But he was interrupted by the sudden reappearance of Ginny, who appeared at the stairs and stared at them.

"Oi!" she said. "George, we're doing stockings. Katie, you missed breakfast, but I think Mum's saved you some if you want to check.""

George's mouth fell open a little, and then he stepped back, releasing her.

"After you," he muttered. Katie regarded him uncertainly, and then moved past him and walked the remainder of the way down the flights of stairs. She felt like she was in some sort of strange dream. George followed close behind her, like a shadow.

XxX

"Merry Christmas, baby sister!"

Katie was immediately assaulted by Michael as soon as she stopped outside the kitchen, which was already bustling with the sounds of dishwashing. Her brother threw his arms around her and lifted her into the air. He was shortly followed by her father, who pulled her into a giant bear hug, and her mother, who kissed her on the cheek and smiled.

"Blimey, everyone really has already eaten breakfast," Katie said, feeling a little astonished as she looked out over the kitchen and living room. All but a few stragglers were already sitting on the couch or lounging at the empty dining room table, chatting pleasantly. The feeling in the air was much more genial than the oppressive heaviness that had hung over them yesterday.

Nicolas Bell laughed. "Well yeah, sweetheart, not all of us were up all hours last night so we were able to get up at a reasonable time," he said loudly. "What were you doing, anyway?"

She unconsciously looked over at George, who was the only person in the room that looked as uncomfortable as she did. His mother was currently badgering him about the dark circles under his eyes. He caught Katie's glance and frowned, looking away quickly.

"Oh, leave her alone, Nick," Mrs. Bell said, swatting softly at her husband. "It's been a rough holiday. Happy Christmas, dear."

"Happy Christmas, Mum…" she trailed off. Her stomach suddenly rumbled and Meda laughed.

"Molly," she called. "Have you got anything left in there for my absentee daughter?"

Mrs. Weasley turned away from George. "Of course, dear. I'll just bring it out to the table. Weasleys, I want you doing your socks! Harry, I've done you one too…"

"Oh, Mother, you didn't really?" Percy said in the strained voice of someone anxious to preserve their dignity. "This is getting a little ridiculous…"

"Of course I did, young man, you're still a child to me under this roof!" Molly snapped, setting down a heaping plate of eggs, bacon and toast on the table.

"You didn't do Bill one," Charlie complained. "I'm 25, Mum!"

"Bill is married," Mrs. Weasley said neatly. "He has his own house and his own traditions now. Maybe if you were to get married—"

"Not a chance."

"—we could start to discuss what you're too old and too young for."

"Or we could just—"

"Oh come on," Ginny interrupted. "Stop your whinging. No one takes you seriously, anyway."

Katie laughed a little in spite of herself as she sat down to the table and thanked Mrs. Weasley for the breakfast. Determined not to look at George as he left the room, she began to shovel the eggs down her throat and listen to Michael's narration of what had taken place between their mother and aunt earlier that morning. Apparently Meda Bell was still determined to talk her sister out of marring Daryl, but had agreed to call a truce in light of the holiday. Michael said that Elizabeth was under the impression that a truce meant acceptance, but that their mother was equally confident her views would win out over her younger sister in the end.

Observing the way, Elizabeth was currently sitting in Daryl's lap wearing a bright blue dress and wrapping her arm around his neck, Katie felt she had to disagree with her mother but said nothing. She attempted to muster the same degree of astonishment she had felt about their engagement last night, but found that only one subject was really occupying her mind at the moment, and that was the whereabouts of Mr. Weasley.

Judging by the relatively normal behavior of everyone in the house except for George, Katie was fairly confident that Arthur Weasley hadn't said anything about what he had discovered when he reentered the house last night. She wasn't sure what he was waiting for—or if he would say anything at all—but she knew that once Mrs. Weasley had been made aware of the information, the Burrow wasn't a place she wanted to be.

As Katie was finishing up her breakfast, Michael sighed.

"Poor old George looks a bit rough today," he said. "Of course, I can't imagine taking down your Christmas sock without having your twin brother's next to it. Seems harsh to have put it out at all, but maybe it would have been worse if they hadn't. I suppose that's why they did the mantle thing, what do you reckon?"

"I…couldn't really say," Katie answered dismissively. "I suppose, yeah."

"Why don't you go sit with him? That might cheer him up."

"No," she said quickly, and then attempted to recant as Michael looked at her strangely. "I mean, I really probably ought to wash my dishes. Seems a bit unfair to eat late and then leave the washing up for someone else."

"I guess…" he trailed off, still uncertain.

Katie escaped to the kitchen, just breathing a sigh of relief, when Arthur Weasley appeared at the back door, stomping the snow off of his boots. Reacting almost unconsciously, she turned away and was about to reenter the dining room when Mrs. Weasley stopped her.

"Katie?" she called loudly. "Were you going to bring me that dish?"

She stopped in her tracks and wildly attempted to remain calm.

"Oh!" she laughed falsely. "Yes…sorry, I guess I don't know where my head is today."

Mr. Weasley observed her carefully as she put her head down and walked briskly past him. She began to hand the plate to Molly when Ginny burst through the door again.

"Mum," she said loudly, holding up a pocket copy of 'Quidditch Through The Ages.' "This was on the floor and we can't figure out who it's for."

"Oh, that's for George," Mrs. Weasley answered after looking up briefly. "He said he lost his."

"He did not," Ginny protested, looking slightly put out. "He gave his to Katie when _she_ lost_ hers_."

Momentarily forgetting she was still holding her plate, Katie fumbled the dish and it fell to the ground and shattered with a loud crash. She instantly flooded with color and stooped down to clean up the mess as she barely managed to keep from swearing. Mr. Weasley's eyes on her made her only more agitated, and she almost immediately sliced her hand open on a shard of glass.

"Oh dear, never you mind," Mrs. Weasley fussed, joining her on the floor. She grabbed a kitchen towel and wrapped it around Katie's hand as she mended the plate with a flick of her wand. "That cut really is quite deep, dear, you ought to have Charlie take a look at it. He sees this sort of thing all the time in his line of work. You really _do _have your head somewhere else today, don't you?"

Katie made a slight reply without knowing what she said, and then hurried away to the other room as Ginny looked at her curiously. This was not a good start to the day.

XxX


	48. The Necklace

**A/N: Yes, I'm alive. And here's another tiny installment to this story, if anyone is still reading. I'm having huge amounts of trouble finishing this section of the story, since the tone shifts so dramatically all the time. I've been writing bits and pieces from different sections, but it's difficult to make them all flow together. I did get this little bit done, though, and while it's not perfect, it's better than nothing…right? If you're still reading, please let me know. Much love.**

The Weasleys' small family room was covered in shiny scraps of gift wrap, and a fire crackled merrily on the hearth. Surrounded by new presents and chattering friends and family, Katie felt well-guarded from the notice of George, who was quite on the opposite side of the room. Whether he had chosen this position strategically, she didn't like to think. The only thing really giving her any distress at the moment was the still unopened package tucked away beneath her pile of unwrapped gifts. She knew it was from George, and thought it was best if she drew as little attention to the pair of them as possible. She couldn't afford another incident like the one in the kitchen earlier. She would have to open it later, perhaps—if at all.

"Little sister," began Michael, crossing the room with Charlie who was wearing what looked like a new knitted sweater. "Where's the Quaffle I just gave you? Charlie and I want to play some Quidditch."

Katie momentarily abandoned her uneasy gaze at George to fix her brother with a look.

"Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to use the present you _just _got me for yourself?"

Her brother shrugged as if there was nothing odd in his request. "Well it's not as if you can join us," he said. "You'll just get hurt."

"I would not!" she protested hotly, throwing a wadded up piece of gift wrap in his direction.

"Kids," Meda said in her warning voice from where she sat with her husband on the couch. Her children ignored her.

"Come on, Kates," Michael continued, now rooting the pile of paper and presents surrounding her. "It will just be for a couple of hours."

"You're such an arse," she complained, and then noticed that he was digging in the direction of the gift from George. Her breath hitched in her throat and she flopped over to where he was quickly inching closer to it.

"It's fine!" she exclaimed quickly. "Just let me find it…"

But it was too late—Michael had unearthed the present.

"Kates," he said genially, holding it up. "You forgot one!"

George, whom Katie had assumed was pretending her half of the living room didn't exist, suddenly snapped to attention and turned quickly to gaze in her direction. She bit her lip and averted her eyes.

"Oh," Charlie said, smiling. "That's from George."

Katie wavered.

"You'd better open that up, Katie Kate," the redhead continued with a smirk. "It's a pretty good one."

"It is," Ginny piped up, looking over from where she sat with Harry. "He spent ages on it."

George quickly busied himself with attending to Teddy, who was trying to put one of the low-hanging Christmas tree ornaments into his mouth. Katie's eyes darted back from George to Ginny to Charlie again. She wasn't certain where to look.

Charlie seemed to pick up on something unsaid and smiled, clapping his hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Well let's go, Bell," he said, taking the small gift from him and tossing it to Katie. "Daylight's burning."

Michael looked confused at the abrupt change in the conversation, but turned and followed his friend outside, arguing about who would have to take the side bordering the pond. Silence filled the space left behind, and Katie turned the gift over in her hands, unsure of what to do with it.

She stared at the faded green wrapping paper for a few moments and suddenly realized that this present had been wrapped significantly earlier than the others. There were faded creases on the edges the bow looked worn. She frowned a little.

"You don't have to open it if you don't want to," a low voice mumbled beside her, causing her to jump a little.

George had moved from the corner of the room to the sofa nearest her. He looked down at her with an inscrutable expression that caused Katie's heart to hurt just a little. She hesitated, and cast her eyes around the room. Everyone else had moved into the kitchen or was caught up in earnest conversation. No one was looking in their direction.

"Do _you_ want me to?" she finally asked in a hushed voice. His mouth fell open just a little as though he was trying to weigh his words.

He nodded slowly. Then, "Yes."

Katie pursed her lips and then looked back down at the small wrapped box. She took a breath and then tugged at the ribbon. It fell away quickly. Another moment's work saw the wrapping paper gone, and then all that remained was to open the box. Sensing George's watchful gaze, she did.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was an intricately gilded silver locket. She pulled it from the box and looked at it more closely. It was beautiful. The chain looked like goblin-made silver, it was so bright. The locket itself was oval-shaped, adorned with looping and swirling patterns, and in the center was what appeared to be genuine mother of pearl. As she examined it closer, the pearl began to look more familiar. In fact, whole aspects of the necklace did. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"It's from all of us, really," George said finally, watching her eyes sweep over the present. "Alicia's chain. Angelina's pearl. The silver is from those old Sickles Lee got from his granddad, back when they used to be pure silver. Melted down."

"And I made it," he added, almost as an afterthought.

She looked up at him, struggling to control the trembling of her lower lip. "You made it?" she repeated.

George nodded. "Yeah. I did."

She opened her mouth to say something—she wasn't sure what—but she was interrupted.

"He's good at that kind of thing, isn't he?" Ginny said, smiling. She had evidently been watching from where she still sat with Harry. Now, she came over to join them and peered over Katie's shoulder. "He'd never admit to it, of course, but he's rather brilliant. I begged him to do me a ring fourth year, and everyone swears it's goblin-made. Very feminine."

George withdrew his steady gaze at Katie's face to throw a look at his sister, but no one seemed to notice.

"Do you want help putting it on?" Ginny asked cheerfully, and Katie attempted to hide some of what she felt.

"Sure," she nodded.

The redheaded girl took the necklace from Katie's hands and easily fastened it around her neck. The weight felt comforting somehow and the metal was warm. She struggled to compose her feelings before managing to get out, "George? Can I talk to you for a second?"

Ginny smiled a little and withdrew as Katie stood up and walked toward the staircase. George hesitated for a moment and then followed her.

When she had gained the stairs, she walked straight up to the second landing and into George's room. He followed her inside, unsure of what to expect, and softly closed to door behind him. Of all the places in the house, this was the one where he least wanted to be. Everything—from the empty top bunk to the half empty closet—was a testament of his guilt and his betrayal. And yet, for some perverse reason, Katie had chosen it.

When he turned around again, she was staring at him intently. Her eyes were full, and he hesitated.

After a few moments of silence passed between them, George began again.

"I tried to make it large enough to hold Fred's ring," he explained, looking down at the floor. "I thought—"

"I don't care," Katie interrupted, quickly closing the space between them. All of her apprehension about the night before had died and her pulse was racing for an entirely different reason now. "Come here."

She circled her arms around George's neck and brought his lips down onto hers, kissing him decidedly now. That he was surprised was obvious, but he made no objection and pulled her in closer by the waist. Everything else was silent. The door blocked out most of the bustle from below.

When they parted, George rested his forehead against hers and breathed out slowly, warring emotions playing clearly across his face.

"Katie…" he whispered quietly. "What are we doing?"

She hesitated, uncertainty returning as quickly as it had vanished. "I don't know," she breathed back.

It felt like an eternity, their two heads resting together, feeling his racing heartbeat against her chest, before he let out a deep and shuddering breath.

"Okay," he said, closing his eyes and tipping her head back, kissing her again.

Katie moved closer against him, dropping her hands to his shoulders and then around his back. They kissed more confidently than they had done the night before, but without descending into the reckless fervor that they had been engaging in when Mr. Weasley had discovered them.

But she didn't think about that now. Her thoughts were entirely focused on the present as George slipped his hand down to the small of her back and deepened their kiss. She had told the truth—she didn't know what she was doing. But she knew that she wanted to be doing it. At least in that very moment.

After a few minutes had passed, George ended it. His lips lingered near hers, but he seemed determined to stop now. He exhaled and then spoke softly. "They'll be wondering where we are," he murmured.

Katie felt her heart sink for some reason she couldn't explain, but nodded. George squeezed her shoulder and then backed away, turning toward the door and reaching for her hand as he did so. She slipped it into his and the pair of them left the room and stole silently back down the stairs.

When they reached the sitting room, they parted in opposite directions, but not before Arthur Weasley caught sight of their intertwined hands and leaned over to whisper something to his wife. When Katie looked up at them not a moment later, Mrs. Weasley had an astonished but gratified look on her face and Katie could feel her stomach turn over inside her.


	49. Going Home

Katie successfully avoided both Weasley parents for most of the next few hours, instead spending Christmas day with her family. This hadn't been an easy task. Mrs. Weasley kept inviting her to help out with the cooking or to offer an opinion on a gift someone had given her.

Katie had two motives for wanting to avoid a confrontation: first, to stay away from the skepticism of Mr. Weasley and the apparent exultation of Mrs. Weasley, and second, to keep her parents away and unable to hear about the latest developments between herself and George. She could barely keep her sanity knowing that the Weasleys knew what had transpired; if her own mum knew she'd kissed George—not once, but twice now—she would have to apparate to Tibet and live out the rest of her life in the mountain tops.

At the moment, she wasn't sure she wouldn't end up doing that anyway. She glanced warily across the game of gobstones she was playing with her parents to where George was leaning against the wall and talking casually to Bill and Daryl. He appeared normal, if somewhat paler and quieter than usual. Katie both longed and dreaded to know what was going on in his mind.

For herself, she felt a near constant sense of anxiety and dread, coupled with—well—desire. The result was a complete loss of appetite, and alternating flashes of mania and paralysis. She yearned for the quiet solitude of the night before, and how everything had seemed surprising but also very clear. Today she was lost in a haze.

Her father called her attention back to the game at hand and she tried to focus, but Michael suddenly eliminated that need by bursting through the front door, bringing with him a large package and a burst of chilly winter air.

"Bloody hell son, make an entrance, will you?" Nicolas said, attempting to appear annoyed, but failing to disguise his amusement.

"What have you got there?" Katie asked, eyeing the package. She was eager for any diversion of her attention and this certainly peaked her interest.

"Never you mind, little sister," Michael grinned, tapping the side of his nose and disappearing into a side room.

"I wonder what that was all about," Meda said.

"Well I'm finding out," Katie declared, and got up from the floor to follow her brother.

"Katie!" Meda shouted, while Nicolas just laughed.

XxX

"Alright, what's going on, weirdo?" Katie asked, flopping down on the nearest couch while Michael tore off the brown packaging. This made her stomach ache a little and she immediately repented it.

"Christmas present from 'Lic, isn't it?" Michael said distractedly as he lifted open the lid to the box. "Just arrived."

"Ooooh," she began to crow obnoxiously, but stopped when she saw her brother's face fall. Michael frowned and stared into the box a long time before he opened his mouth again.

"Katie," he said slowly. "What kind of gifts does Alicia usually give?"

Katie hesitated. "Why?"

"Just…what did she get you for your last birthday?"

On edge, Katie tried to think quickly. Her mind raced for a second before she remembered. "_A Witch's Guide For a Wild Wedding_. And then a copy of her St. Mungo's schedule, with all of her free time marked in red. She was convinced Fred and I were going to get engaged soon, and she wanted to be maid of honor. And then we did," she added as an afterthought. "We did get engaged."

This set her heart pounding again and she had to increase her grip on the sofa's armchair to stop the room from spinning. If Michael noticed, he ignored it.

"So you'd say she's a thoughtful gift giver, then?" he pressed.

"I suppose so…Michael, _why?_"

"Because she's given me a day planner."

"What?"

Katie got off the couch and knelt down beside her brother. She picked up the package. Inside was, indeed, a day planner tied with a bow. She frowned.

"And you're sure it's from Alicia?" she asked finally.

Michael raised an eyebrow and then tossed her the packaging. The address and handwriting were indeed Alicia's.

"You know what I got her?" Michael asked roughly.

"No, I don't."

"A signed copy of _Matilda. _First edition."

"Huh? What's that?"

"Her favorite childhood book. She told me about it. Muggle author by the name of Roald Dahl. He's dead now, so I had to nick a time turner off my mate that works at the Ministry in order to get it signed. I went to a lot of trouble."

Katie raised her eyebrows, admittedly impressed. "Michael," she said. "That's amazing."

"Well I thought so," he muttered. "But this…I guess I just thought we were on a different level, you know?"

There was a very audible pause.

"Maybe it's got your name on it…?" Katie said finally.

"No."

She frowned, unable to help feeling slightly worried. It was extremely unlike Alicia to buy such a thoughtless gift. She was always known as the considerate one in their dorm room. A day planner was something Angelina would have bought for them all in a fit of practicality.

"You know what, I bet she was just unsure of what to get you," she said finally. "Alicia's never really had a boyfriend before—except George."

Katie felt her voice hitched on George's name, but she rushed on, attempting to push her own life far from her mind.

"She probably just panicked, and went for a needs-based gift. You _are _pretty disorganized, you know."

Her brother gave her an impatient look and shook his head. "Don't try to make it a joke," he said sternly. "I wouldn't do that to you."

And with that, he threw the day planner back into its box and started to walk toward the door that led into the backyard.

"_Michael_," Katie said, rather astonished. "Michael, come on, you know I didn't mean it."

But he walked out the door and shut it behind him decidedly. Katie had started to get up, but at this, she sank back to the floor and leaned against the nearby wall. She exhaled.

XxX

Katie must have stayed there for quite some time, because eventually she heard the door open and someone enter the room. She turned to look. It was George.

"Dinner's ready," he said in a low and somewhat hollow voice. "Mum sent me to tell you."

Katie signed and stared at the ceiling. "She knows, George."

George sat down beside her and nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"Did she say anything to you about it?"

"No. But she's been trying to all day. I've been choosing not to take the hint."

Katie nodded and shifted her focus to a far end of the room. She didn't know whether to be unnerved by George's silence or comforted by it.

"Alicia sent Michael a day planner for Christmas," she finally said.

At this, a shadow of a smile appeared on George's freckled face. "What?"

"Yeah," Katie confirmed, now unable to help smiling somewhat herself. "Can you imagine?"

"Something's not right there."

"Tell me about it."

After a moment, Katie sighed again. "The world's gone mad. And I can't handle it anymore."

George said nothing, but instead waiting a moment and then got up, offering her his hand.

"Well come on then," he said. "Mum won't want to keep dinner waiting.

XxX

When they emerged, the Weasley's already crowded home was bursting with new arrivals. Hermione had reemerged, along with her parents, and it seemed that Harry and Ron had also invited Luna Lovegood and her father from over the hill.

"Just to pop in, of course," Xenophilius Lovegood reminded anyone within hearing distance. "Luna and I have got to get back to Helga. She's just had a new litter."

Who or what Helga was, Katie never got to find out as Mrs. Weasley started shouting place settings over the top of everyone's conversations. Katie drifted toward the end of the table Aunt Elizabeth was sitting at, but Mrs. Weasley grabbed her by both shoulders and directed her southward.

"Oh no, dear, I thought you could sit by George. Isn't that nice?"

She looked around, panicked, but no one seemed to notice or find it odd but herself. George stood up and pulled out her chair for her, something she'd only seen him do when he was dating Alicia. She blushed deeply, but kept her face down.

Dinner was a noisy affair, but one she was particularly grateful for as she had nothing to say to anyone and very little appetite overall. However, Mrs. Weasley's unreasonably high spirits constantly kept her on edge.

"We've had such a phoenix rise from the ashes," Molly was telling the woman who appeared to be Hermione's mother. "I've been dreading this day for so long, but it seems that the only constant in life is love—not sorrow. And that's manifested itself in some unexpected but truly wonderful ways."

She smiled significantly in George's direction, confusing Mrs. Granger but thoroughly unnerving Katie, whose eyes immediately darted to her lap.

"What on earth are you talking about, Mum?" asked Ginny, who had been listening to this conversation.

Katie felt incredibly lightheaded when underneath the table, George grabbed her hand and wrapped it in his. She looked toward him quickly, but his face was expressionless and he appeared to be listening politely to something her father was saying. If this was meant to be comforting, it didn't help. Katie was confused by the gesture, unsure if it was friendly or romantic. She was also unsure in which direction she hoped it tended.

To take her mind off it, Katie used her spare hand to prop up her chin and gaze across the table at Michael. He too appeared quiet and was eating remarkably little. She frowned.

"Come on Bell, have a go," Charlie urged, pushing a bowl of dinner rolls toward his friend.

"_No_," Michael said sternly, holding up a hand to deny the offering. As he did so, knocked the bowl out of Charlie's hands and the rolls went flying across the room.

A burst of genial laughter erupted from their section of the table and Charlie, perhaps anxious to cover Michael's bad mood, dove under the table to recover the rolls.

"I got it!" he shouted, disappearing from sight. Immediately, Katie yanked her hand away from George and blushed furiously. It was too late, however. Charlie emerged with an armful of rolls and a sly grin on his face.

George, who hadn't noticed, looked at her with a small frown on his face. Katie ignored this and pushed herself away from the table.

"I've got to use the loo," she announced wildly, and practically ran from the room. She could feel the curious expressions behind her.

XxX

In the washroom, Katie gripped the sides of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror.

"Come on," she snapped at her reflection. "Pull yourself together. Do what Angelina would do. Walk out there with nothing to hide and all the confidence in the world. You're Katie Bell, for God's sake. You don't take shit from anyone."

This wasn't entirely true, of course. She _did _have something to hide—something rather large. And while she was pretty good at not taking shit, no one was necessarily dishing it out. Still, this was the pep talk she used before Quidditch matches at Hogwarts and it gave her enough steam to go back to the dining room.

When she did, things were winding down and Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Granger, Charlie, and—surprisingly—Fleur were clearing the table while the others retired to the sitting room to stretch and make room for dessert. Apparently she'd stayed away longer than she thought.

As she surveyed the scene, George appeared and took her elbow.

"Are you alright?" he asked quizzically. His eyes bore deeply into her own, but she still couldn't make out what was behind them.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—"

_Just what?_ How did she explain the alternating waves of desire and discomfort that were coursing through her right now? She both wanted him and wanted to be as far away as possible.

"Katie, darling, do you want to help us in the kitchen?" Mrs. Weasley called, looking anxious to get her on her own. Katie hesitated between confusion and embarrassment, and eventually chose embarrassment.

"Sure thing," she said, backing away from George and turning toward the kitchen. George frowned again before she disappeared through the entryway.

"What can I do?" Katie asked, anxious to head off any attempts at conversation that revolved around anything other than dish soap and suds.

"Want to dry while I wash?" grinned Charlie, who had his sleeves rolled up and his hands plunged into the sink.

"Excellent," Katie said, striding over and taking up a dish towel.

"Charlie, I _told_ you, you can let the wand do that," Mrs. Weasley said, exasperated. She flicked her wand at the sink and one of the sponges started scouring a dish. Charlie caught it in mid-air.

"Gets cleaner this way," he argued, and his mother just rolled her eyes.

"Katie," she tried again, while stirring something boiling on the stove.

"It was a lovely dinner, Mrs. Weasley," Katie interrupted. "Really, just terrific. I don't remember the last time I ate so much."

She'd hardly eaten anything, but who had noticed?

"Thank you, dear, but—"

"The potatoes were especially good. How do you get them so creamy?"

"Actually, it was just—"

"And the steak and kidney pie. You know, usually I don't like that, but tonight…"

"What are you doing?" interrupted Fleur, standing near an open cupboard with her hand on her hip. She was wearing a rather low-cut dress with gold sequins, and seemed to have enjoyed slightly too much of the mulled mead. "You. You don't talk like zat."

"What?" Katie asked warily.

"Why are you interested in ze food? You can't cook. You are disaster in ze kitchen. I have seen it."

"Actually, Fleur," Mrs. Weasley attempted. "Katie makes an excellent—"

Her irritation and anxiety levels at an all-time high, Katie broke in without checking herself.

"How would you know?" she snapped. "Last time we were in a kitchen together, you spent half the time admiring your reflection in the flatware."

Charlie guffawed loudly, but stopped himself when Fleur's face took on a villainous look.

"'Ow dare you? As if you know anything about the importance of personal grooming! You're lucky you cleaned up today, with zat 'air of yours."

She looked ready to say more, but instead burst out the back door and started marching off toward the chicken coop while Katie fumed near the sink.

"Well really, that wasn't necessary, Katie," Mrs. Weasley said after a moment. "But I do understand you're a bit preoccupied."

She smiled knowingly and Katie stared up at the ceiling.

"I should go apologize," she announced, leaving the kitchen without any intention of doing so.

XxX

Head in her hand, leaning against the nearest wall, Katie didn't look up until Charlie approached.

"Letting the wand do it," he grinned, answering her inquiring expression.

"I'm insane," she stated flatly. Charlie laughed.

"Fleur's always like that when she drinks," he said dismissively. "She'll forget it happened by tomorrow morning."

Katie raised her eyebrows and said nothing. Charlie pressed on.

"The _real _question here, Kates, is what's going on with you and George-pie?"

She shot him a look. "What on earth makes you say that."

He laughed. "Oh come on, Katie, I'm not a complete moron. Mum's been over-the-moon for unknown reasons all day, you're on edge, and I definitely caught the under-the-table action at dinner. You know I did."

"That wasn't anything," she shot back.

"What happened last night? I know you were the last two up."

"_Nothing _happened, Charlie, just drop it."

"Fine." He shot up his hands in surrender. "Nothing happened."

After a moment, he added, "Probably for the best, anyway." Katie felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"So what's up with Michael?" Charlie continued, changing the subject. She sighed. Finally, something she could talk about without feeling on the edge of a stroke.

"Alicia sent him a dayplanner for Christmas," she said, leaning her head back against the wall. "He sent her a signed copy of her favorite dead author's book, or something. He's not happy about the disparity."

Charlie winced. "I should imagine not. That's a little cold. Any idea what's up there?"

"Not the first clue."

He nodded. "Suppose I should go be the best mate."

"Indeed."

"Alright," Charlie replied. "Then I'm off. Just try not to create any more lasting fissures in my family while I'm gone, eh?" He winked and disappeared down the hall.

"Charlie!" Katie cried, exasperated. As she followed him down the hall, however, she noticed a tipsy Fleur arguing with Bill and looking in her direction and she turned back round.

"Right," she said, returning to the sitting room. George was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Harry and Ron near the Christmas tree. She strode over purposefully, grabbed his hand, and pulled him out of the room and near the staircase. A couple of heads turned, but most of the guests were too busy digesting their dinner to notice or care much.

When they got to the hallway, Katie released George's hand and started pacing the floor. George put his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to begin.

"I've got to get out of here," she burst forward. "I've got to. I can't stay in this house another minute."

"What happened?" George asked carefully.

"Everything! Have you not been here all day? I can't stand the glances, the whispering, all the bloody hints. I just verbally attacked your sister-in-law, and your mother thinks it's because—well, I don't know what she thinks. But I don't want to know. And Charlie—"

She sighed, looking at him helplessly. "I just can't be here. I need to leave. Either with you or on my own."

She bit her lip and awaited his reaction. George took a moment to mull it over before speaking.

"You realize if we both leave, that's just going to make it worse."

"I know."

"I can't stop my mother from talking."

"Yeah, I know."

"Or my brother."

"Yeah."

George nodded slowly. "Alright. Let me go and get my coat."

Katie sighed gratefully and sloped against the wall. She didn't know what she was doing, but it felt like the right decision. At the very least, it would get her away from this godawful, never-ending Christmas party from hell.

George returned in a couple of minutes in his black pea coat and scarf. Katie had a moment to reflect on how nice he looked before he reached for her hand. She looked at him quizzically, but he just nodded shortly. She took his hand and he pulled her up.

"We ought to say goodbye," he said. "After last night, I don't know how much they trust me not to kill myself."

He smiled wryly and Katie nodded back, letting him lead her through the hallway and into the sitting room. Despite her anxiety, no one really looked up until George was helping her put on her coat. By that time, Mrs. Weasley had emerged from the kitchen with a pie in each hand.

"George? Where on earth are you going?"

At that, Katie's parents—who were seated near the door—looked up as well.

"Are you _leaving_?" Meda asked in shock.

Katie was unsure how to respond, but George—suddenly possessed by a preternatural calm—answered both their mothers.

"Katie and I need a bit of air. We're going back to our flat and we'll see you all in the morning."

"But George!" Molly Weasley exclaimed.

"Katie, you're meant to be going home with us. Staying with _us_," Meda argued.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Katie said, shrugging her shoulders. "I've got to."

"Well there's no need for that," Nicolas put in, in his fatherly "voice of reason" tone. "If you need a break, just go for a little walk and we can leave early."

"We can leave early," Meda echoed.

On the other side of the couple, Mrs. Weasley was whispering rapidly into George's ear.

"If this is about you and Katie feeling uncomfortable, there's no need," Katie heard her hiss. "I think it's the most natural thing in the world that—"

"We'll see you later, Mum," George said firmly, putting his hands on Katie's shoulders and backing the pair of them out the door.

"I'll owl you," Katie promised, looking guiltily back at her mum, and then the door was closed, and they were outside.

George heaved what seemed to be a sigh of relief and then grabbed hold of her hand again. The snow fell softly around them.

"You ready?" he asked.

Katie nodded. George clasped her hand tighter and then turned, apparating the pair of them back to their flat on deserted Diagon Alley.


	50. In the Watches of the Night

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter this time around, but it was a good place to pause. Also, warning: Rather "adult" content here. Nothing really racy or lemony, but it's a bit more "mature" than what I usually write, so just know that. Of course, you probably do. This story was never one that was going to end with a joke and a kiss, right? Anyway, please review. Would love to know you're still out there.**

With the smallest of "pop"s, George Weasley and Katie Bell appeared suddenly in Diagon Alley. Unlike in Ottery St. Catchpole, where the snow had created deep, silent blankets of white over the countryside, the London snow was thin and wet, melting the instant it touched the cobblestoned ground.

Katie swayed momentarily—she had never favored side-along apparition—but George caught her and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He gazed down at her from his great height with a look that—while still seemingly inscrutable—appeared more assured than the one he had worn at the Burrow. It helped Katie to nod her head, even if the gesture was slightly incongruous with her mood.

"Okay," George said. "Come on then."

He gave her shoulders a squeeze and then trailed his hand lightly across her back before taking her hand in his. In her gray woolen mittens, Katie felt more like a child George was leading out of the cold than a woman he had just kissed—twice—and then brought home.

And was this, she wondered, what it was like the come home with the infamous George Weasley? She had always imagined him more manic, more excitable and high-spirited, than the calm and self-assured young man that was now leading her up the stairs to their flat. This dichotomy cast him in a quite attractive light and Katie found herself wishing she was not wearing a pea coat and a thick knitted sweater, but something perhaps thinner and tighter.

She tried to shake her head clear of these thoughts, wishing for the old George to make an appearance—the one who looked at her with eyes full of guilt and vulnerability. She could handle that George. It was difficult, but entirely within the realm of possibility. This was just…

But hadn't she been the one to suggest they come back here? Hadn't she known, at least on some level, that this is what would happen?

Angelina's voice, which had been chirping away unheeded about physical dependency mere months before, echoed in the back of her mind as George undid the magically-enforced locks to the flat and let her in.

It was cold in here—a product of the place's emptiness—and seemed hollow, somehow, and sad despite the Christmas tree in the corner. Katie shivered.

"You're cold?" George asked, and again she nodded.

"I'll light a fire."

As he did so, Katie wandered to the large bay window looking over London's most famous all-wizarding street. There was no one about; not that that was surprising. Diagon Alley was primarily commercial and the shop owners would almost all be at home somewhere in the countryside, enjoying their friends and family. Not here. Not in this place.

Absentmindedly, Katie turned toward her tree, pulled out her wand, and muttered a spell that made the tiny lights glow. The room felt slightly more cheerful now, and she felt marginally less like a stranger here.

"Pretty," George remarked. He had come back from the hearth, where a fire was now crackling comfortably. He had removed and hung up his coat, and now stood by her with his hands in his pockets.

He was clearly waiting for Katie to make the next move, perhaps unsure of why she'd wanted to get away and be alone together. Despite this, Katie could see on his face that he wanted to kiss her again, and was grappling with the appropriateness of such a desire.

She hesitated, trembling a moment, before sinking down onto the nearest bed, which happened to be Lee's. She felt paralyzed with indecision, her body and her head crying out for two different things. She longed for the safety of childhood again—of Christmases spent entirely with family, only fleeting thoughts about boys, and other people in charge. She had always yearned for freedom, and now resented it.

After a few moments of saying nothing, George crossed the short distance between the tree and the bed and sat down beside her.

"Hey," he said in a lowered voice, as if he was afraid of being overheard by people who were not present. "We don't have to—we can just talk. About what happened. If you want."

And he meant it too, Katie knew. That was the best thing about George—he didn't press the issue with you. She could tell him she wanted to go straight to bed without speaking another word to him and he'd accept it without holding any ill will toward her. And then, once she'd fallen asleep, he would probably watch over her for a while to make sure she didn't have any nightmares before retreating to bed himself—the way he had been watching out for her for months now. Years, probably. It was something she had only newly recognized—a new perspective gained with a kiss.

The thought made tears spring to her eyes as she stared at her knees and contemplated the fork in the road in their relationship that lay before them.

"Hey," George said again. "Are you al—"

"I don't want to talk," Katie interrupted, speaking for the first time since they had disapparated from the Burrow. She blinked back her tears and placed her hand gently on his knee, sliding it slowly upward.

"Will you help me off with my coat?" she whispered in a voice that was barely audible.

XxX

The first time Katie and Fred had slept together, they were sixth years. After reconciling at the Yule Ball, while Alicia was fighting off advances from her ghastly Durmstrang date, while Angelina was crying alone in her dorm room, and while George was confessing something to Lee that he had sworn he would never, ever tell another soul, the pair of them had run briskly up to the Astronomy Tower. No one was there; no one would have _wanted _to be there, in a frigidly cold stone tower while there was life and love and buzz below.

Fred had wanted to take her to the Room of Requirement—a place she would come to know by name the following year as they met together with the group called Dumbledore's Army. Katie, however, had wanted their first time to be completely authentic—unaided by magic. She had wanted to be under the stars.

They had talked about previously, of course, for what seemed like years. To Fred, it was. He had started thinking about it as a fourth year, verbalizing it as a fifth year, and asking Katie when she would be ready a few months before they had had their massive falling out. Unbeknownst to the others, this issue was one of the many reasons Katie and Fred had broken up earlier that school year.

Katie loved Fred. She knew she did. She also knew she wanted him to be her first. She just wasn't quite ready.

He had never bothered her about it or held it against her when they fought, but she could see it lying in the undercurrent of their endless arguments that year. He was frustrated and couldn't quite understand why she wasn't on the same page with him.

She had tried several times—told him she was ready, only to retreat when it came down to it. She trembled and cried and he held her and promised her he could be patient.

"I love you, don't I?" he had said one of these times. "When doesn't matter. It's with who."

And yet in every instance she knew he was disappointed and she felt embarrassed that she should be so childish when he was ready to move on. She hadn't known what she was waiting for until that Christmas Eve.

"Are you ready?" Fred had asked her for the dozenth time. "Are you sure?"

"Ready," she responded, kissing him fully on the mouth. "Sure."

And yet they hadn't managed it—not right away at least. When it came down to it, Fred had been just as nervous as she had. They trembled almost uncontrollably, afraid but anxious. After two or three false starts, they had sunk back into each other, just talking until the first signs of dawn began to appear through the tower window.

Now fully calm and quite, quite sure, Fred had kissed her gently and they moved from there. At that moment, Katie knew—really knew—that she loved Fred Weasley. It was a fierce, fast, forever kind of love, and she knew she would never feel it again with another person. Not ever.

XxX

George had heard Katie's request, but wasn't moving. Deciding that he was perhaps still unsure if she meant it, she stood up and turned around to face the window, waiting. After a moment, George followed her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. She heard him swallow with a "click" in his throat before he moved his hands slowly over her shoulders and began undoing the brass buttons on her bright red coat.

She could feel his breath lightly on her neck as he worked his way down. It made her shiver. Once the coat was unfastened, George pulled it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor with a muffled thud of fabric. The only other sounds were the crackle of the fire and their matched, quick breathing.

After several seconds, she began bracing herself to turn around and face him, when she felt his lips press against her neck. He kissed her softly, leaving a trail of kisses up and down her shoulders and in the crook of her neck. Her knees felt like they had turned to jelly. No other part of him touched her.

Feeling she would soon be unable to keep standing, Katie turned and kissed him full on the mouth, hands moving up to his now rather messy ginger hair. His tongue pressed past her lips and she pressed up against him more firmly. As her thumb brushed near the hole where his ear had been, she suddenly remembered something and stopped.

"I haven't given you your Christmas present yet," she whispered. "I'd forgotten."

George shook his head. "This is it," he said in a guttural tone, suddenly scooping her up off her feet and crossing the room to where his bed stood. He laid her down carefully, eyes searching hers momentarily before kissing her firmly and climbing over her.

Hands now fumbled for clothing, pulling and unbuttoning until he was shirtless and she was clad only in her bra and jeans. He now kissed her softly in the crook of her neck and reached around her, very gently undoing the clasps to her bra. It was gone in a whisper.

George lifted his head and gazed down at her, his eyes wide but calm.

"You're perfect," he whispered, before pressing himself against her and kissing her again.

As his head drifted, burrowing into her neck and shoulders, Katie encircled her arms around his surprisingly broad back and tried to remember to breathe. Flashes of something were beginning to come to her, unconnected at first, before slowly joining together to create a full picture. She felt unreasonably cold despite the fire and the closeness of George's body. She seemed to recall the texture of stone and the early morning rays of the sun. Yet, here, the sleet still continued to fall, hitting the window and streaming down in clear rivulets.

She began to lose her breath now and as George's hands wandered, his thumb now tucked into the waistband of her jeans, she jerked a little.

_George, oh George, this is wrong_, her mind cried, as he looked up into her face, checking to see what had disturbed her. _Can't you see that? What are we doing here? This is you, and this is me. Angelina was right, we should have never, ever—I can't do this. I could never do this again, after…after—_

"Fred."

The last word escaped her lips without her knowledge. She tried to bite it back, but its effect was immediate. George recoiled, horrorstruck. She may as well have slapped him across the face. The calmness and surety melted off his face in an instant, replaced with anguish, mortification, and the deepest hurt.

Before she could say another word, he leapt up, scooped up his sweater and pulled it over his head as he nearly ran to the door.

"_George_," Katie cried as soon as she found that she had recovered her voice. "George, I didn't mean—"

But it was too late. George had slammed the door shut and, for the second time in two days, disappeared into a thick whirl of swirling snow and freezing temperatures.

The moment he was gone, Katie burst into tears.


End file.
